#sorry for editing i can’t stop thinking about this and how will left their brother passed out on the floor of his own penthouse

[vqlisms]

i can’t stop thinking about how xavier and alan are going to wake up in their hideout alone. alan stitched back together, xavier torn apart. no answers, no apologies, no anger. xavier is going to ask anyone he knows if they’ve seen a girl with long black hair and purple eyes. alan is going to run about the city after shadows in the corners of his eyes. xavier is going to call and search for any news and beat himself up over injuries he can’t remember receiving. alan is going to wince over incisions that he’s never experienced before. and there’s going to be nothing to show for it. they’re going to exhaust every option they have and there’s going to be nothing to show for it, because it was handled. it was all handled.

sorry edit to add more: don’t think about how despite their differences in ideologies xavier would call will in a fit of desperation because william is the detective, william has contacts that they as vigilantes don’t, william must be able to find something. and william is going to have to listen as xavier asks and begs and pleads for any insight, anything, anything that could explain their sudden injuries and their missing friend, and william is going to have to make a decision. william is going to have to tell xavier that they handled it. that they were no better than their brothers lackeys that alan slaughtered. that they were given the order and they obeyed like a dog. there will be nothing to justify, anymore. because the victims don’t remember and william has killed someone who entrusted them with her name and they handled it perfectly. and what left will there be but for xavier to put them down like the dog that they’ve become.

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

II ║ Threads

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part I: Seams | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: M

Summary: When Joel revisits Main Street Outfitters two weeks later, he finds you on your knees. Again.

Warnings: Very spicy thoughts but not explicit, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, some language, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 4.3k

Notes: This crept up on me and happened just as I was finishing up edits. I am so grateful, and I hope Threads is a fitting thank you gift to you all 😘 I’m thinking about doing a sleepover celebration, we shall see!

Joel and Pin are back ❤️ They're back because you guys have been so generous with your love, sending me so many ideas and hyping me up - I can't thank you all enough! This chapter is all thanks to Singer machine anon who bravely (affectionate 😉) shared their story of getting stuck under a sewing machine table. I hope you enjoy this one!

A treadle sewing machine is powered mechanically by a foot pedal that is pushed back and forth by the operator's foot. 

If you're not familiar, here is a classic Singer treadle cabinet, which is no way big enough for the purposes of this story, so please exercise your imagination 😉

Joel hovers outside the Jackson Grocer’s, arms crossed, trying to make himself look as inconspicuous as possible in front of the leafy display of butter lettuce heads.

It’s been a few months since he’s settled in, but sometimes he can’t get over how fucking nuts this place is. Looking at the shelves brimming with fresh fruits and vegetables outside, canned food and home goods inside, he could easily be standing outside the 24/7 mart in his old neighbourhood. There are even shopping baskets, for crying out loud - stacked neatly one on top of the other by the door.

A voice pipes up from his left. ‘Didn’t know you ate greens.’

Joel scowls. ‘I don’t.’

‘Why are you loiterin’, then?’ asks Tommy, picking up a couple of apples and examining them with exaggerated care.

‘I’m not loiterin’,’ he spits out the last word as if he’s above it, turning his gaze to the high street. 

Tommy tosses him a cocky grin, head tilted at a knowing angle. ‘Yeah, you are. And now you’re makin’ eyes at Bob. It’s disturbin’.’

Glancing across the main thoroughfare at the welder’s shop, where the said proprietor is cutting up wooden planks on the porch, Joel grumbles sarcastically, ‘That’s right. Bob is just my type.’

At that very moment, right next to Bob's, the door of Main Street Outfitters creaks open, and Joel recognises Lucy instantly as she sneaks out on tiptoes. She skips down the stairs and wanders up the street in what appears to be another impromptu work break.

Joel’s already taken two steps towards the shop before he remembers that he’s not alone. Braking abruptly and bringing up one hand to scratch the back of his neck, he feels Tommy’s eyes on him.

He half-turns, and snaps, ‘What?’

The younger Miller brother shrugs, pursing his lips thoughtfully. ‘Why are you going to the Outfitters again? Didn’t you just get those new jeans a couple of weeks ago?’

‘Thought I’d get a new shirt for your stupid baby shower.’

‘Joel -’

‘Sorry, sorry.’ He throws his hands up in capitulation. ‘Baby showers are not stupid. Especially in the middle of an apocalypse.’

Taking another two steps forward, a thought stops him dead in his tracks again. He can practically feel Tommy smiling smugly at his back.

For fuck’s sake.

He doesn’t turn around this time, jamming his hands into his pockets and asks, ‘Can I bring someone? To the party?’

‘We know Ellie’s comin’.’

Whipping around, he growls, ‘Tommy -’

He laughs. ‘Well, I’ll be damned. Joel Miller makin’ friends in town? Maria’s right - you’re fittin’ right in, big brother.’

Rolling his eyes, Joel flips him off and stomps his way across the street.

Tommy calls out at his retreating back. ‘Say hello to Pin and tell her we’d love to have her come over on Sunday!’

When he steps inside, the shop is as empty as it was a fortnight ago. Joel shuts the door firmly, making sure the bell jingles, so his entry doesn’t go unnoticed.

Your voice, though muffled, comes promptly. ‘Lucy! Is that you?’

He heads towards the doorway that leads to the workshop. ‘It’s Joel, actually.’

‘Oh, shit!’

His eyebrows reach for his hairline - you don’t seem to be the type to curse. Concerned, he asks, ‘You alright back there?’

There’s a touch of panic in your reply, ‘Don’t come back here. Did Lucy sneak out again?’

On your instruction, Joel hesitates in the middle of the room, talking to air. ‘Yeah, saw her leave a couple of minutes ago.’

‘Goddamnit, Lucy!’

He shuffles his feet awkwardly. ‘Uh, you sure you’re ok? Should I come back later?’

There’s a resigned sigh, then a pause. ‘Promise you won’t laugh.’

One end of his lips tugs upwards in a smile. ‘Why would I?’

‘Promise.’

At your insistence, he humours you, ‘Alright, I promise, sweetheart.’

‘Come on back.’

When he steps into the workshop, he doesn’t spot you immediately. The space is seemingly empty, everything standing still and in order. He sweeps his eyes across the room, starting with the shelving unit and the desk along the near wall, then trailing over the large timber work table in the middle, where a stack of folded shirts stands neatly.

His throat isn’t the only thing that tightens when he glances at the rug under the skylight -

‘Joel?’

Your voice draws his attention to the far corner of the room, where a sewing station is tucked into a little alcove.

Joel doesn’t know much about sewing machines, but he can recognise a vintage Singer anywhere even without the name blazoned across its elegant body. His grandmother had one in her drawing room by a sunny bay window, and he used to watch her work on it when he visited every other weekend. For a disorienting second, he can almost smell homemade cinnamon rolls and black tea.

Little did he know that things were about to get a lot more disorienting than a pleasant childhood memory.

As he steps around the work table, the rest of the sewing station comes into view, fronted by a big window, the light streaming through the glass glancing off the black sewing machine on top of a classic treadle cabinet. What looks like a half-finished dress lies on the wooden work surface, which stands on quintessential wrought metal legs, and between them - his throat constricts with a slow swallow when he realises what - or rather, who - he’s looking at.

The words barely come out, as if his tongue is suddenly too big for his mouth, as he makes his presence known. ‘I’m here, sweetheart.’

To be fair, you’re not making things easy by any means. All he can see is your backside hovering in mid-air, the rest of you out of sight under the desk. It has built-in cabinets on each end, the right side of it backed up against the far wall, and a chair is pushed to the side.

Joel stops two measured paces away, staring down at the curve of your ass and the way your top rides up, baring the small of your back. His eyes linger on the soft skin between the shirt’s hem and the waistband of your very tight jeans.

Jesus Christ. Do you always have to be on your fucking knees in this workshop?

Your small voice jolts him from his daze. ‘Well, at least you’re not laughing.’

He has to bite his tongue to stop himself from scoffing. If only you knew how laughing is the furthest thing on his mind right now. ‘What happened?’

‘A spool rolled off and I went down to get it, but I fell on the treadle accidentally - I think my shirt is snagged in the band wheel. I can’t move at all, and this Singer is an antique - I can't risk breaking it.’

Unfamiliar with what you’re talking about, he probes, ‘And where’s the band wheel?’

‘Under the table, on my right.’

You wriggle your hips, perhaps to help him locate where you’re stuck, unaware that you’re not helping. At all. 

He swallows thickly and implores you, ‘Stay still, sweetheart. I’ll take a look.’

It’s been two whole weeks since Joel Miller came into the shop. You’ve caught glimpses of him in between - Jackson is tiny, after all. He catches your eye as he ambles down the high street with Ellie, his gruff Southern accent carrying even in the mid-afternoon bustle, too preoccupied arguing with the teenager to notice you on the other side of the road. He’s in the cafeteria a couple of times when you arrive for a late dinner, nodding at you from a few tables over, while you work up the nerve to smile back.

Every time, he’s wearing the jeans you handpicked for him, which makes your chest swell and constrict at the same time with something like - pride.

You picked out the pair for him. You assured him that he looks good. And by the way he’s wearing his confidence on his sleeve, he’s certainly taken your words to heart. 

Whenever you see other women eyeing him as he struts about town - which is entirely too often - it awakens an ugly possessiveness in you, one that twists your insides into grotesque balloon animals.

Fourteen damn days. Even in the privacy of your workshop, you can’t escape that man. The simple touch of denim provokes a visceral reaction from you, heat chases beneath your skin every time you pick up the tailor’s scissors. It doesn’t help that most of your daily tasks are not exactly cerebral, which gives this man all the more leeway to lay claim to your subconscious.

If you believed in magic, you would've thought you summoned him with the sheer energy you’ve spent thinking about him. But what kind of witchcraft conjured him up at the precise moment you get trapped like the bumbling idiot that you are?

One minute you’re reaching for the stupid thread, the next thing you know, you’re stuck, unable to move without the mechanisms of the antique Singer groaning ominously at your attempts to free yourself.

But maybe, it’s still better than Lucy finding you. She’d take a hammer to the sewing machine to get you out, no question - patience is not her strong suit - and she’d be laughing at you for days.

You hear the floorboards give behind you as Joel moves into the space, which isn’t much - when you’re sat down at the treadle cabinet, the wall is barely two steps behind.

The wooden table creaks above you as he braces one hand on the surface, and you startle at what sounds like the vicious crack of a vertebra.

‘Um - you okay?’

Joel grunts. ‘I’ll live.’

So you wait, thinking absent-mindedly how your elbows are starting to get numb. There’s a scruff of boots and what sounds like a brief struggle, before Joel sighs. ‘Back’s too stiff ‘mfraid. Gotta get on the floor to see underneath.’

Before you can squeak out a reply, there’s a boney click of what you presume is his knees as he crouches down, and an unexpected brush of denim on your left ankle surprises you. Forgetting where you are, you jump in reflex, hitting the underside of the table so hard that you screech in pain.

‘Shit!’ Joel cusses behind you, one warm hand landing on the side of your hip to steady you. ‘You ok?’

Up until this point, you’ve been too consumed with embarrassment by your predicament to even think about the position Joel found you in. But once the warm imprint of his palm registers through the denim, it hits you like one of those interstate trucks that you used to see out of your window.

You’re leaning on your forearms, ass in the air, and now - he’s behind you, getting onto his knees. You can’t decide if the back of your head or your pussy is throbbing harder as you stutter, ‘I’m fine, just - get me out, please.’

‘Alright, hang on, sweetheart.’

You swallow the childish urge to stamp your foot. He has no right going around dropping sweethearts all over the place.

There’s a throaty exhale as Joel lowers himself onto the floor, his knees bracketing yours to shift closer to you. You know he feels the shudder that chases down your spine when soft flannel grazes your bare back, heat spilling from his solid frame as he looms over you.

‘You say you’re stuck in the band wheel?’

Somehow, you manage to answer, ‘Yeah, to my right.’

He clears his throat. ‘I - uh - I’ll have to lean down pretty close to you to take a look, is that ok?’

You feel all the air leave your body, which is probably why your reply comes out far breathier than you intend it to. ‘Yes, Joel.’

And with those two words, Joel has a problem with his jeans. Again.

They’re too tight. Again.

There’s nothing he can do as his mouth goes dry and his cock hardens with a vengeance, his self-control slipping like sand between his fingers.

He was doing so good - well, he was more or less holding it together, as much as he could be expected to while kneeling behind you. And of course, his damn knees hurt, but so does his bottom lip which is caught in his teeth, trying to regulate his breathing when his heart threatens to beat right out of his chest. 

He already has one hand on you, and goddamnit, it’s taking him all he’s got to hold back from gripping you with his other, to grasp the swell of your ass between his palms, to trace your curves up to the dip of your exposed waist, to bow his head and run his tongue along the arc of your spine -

And the jeans you’re wearing - fuck, they’re tight. He wonders idly if you wore them for him. His eyes follow the seam that runs down the cleft of your ass, the way the pockets stretch over your backside has his fingers twitching, thinking about how well you will fill his hands, and how the slow rub of denim will burn his skin.

He wants to hook his thumbs into the belt loops and pull you flush against the zipper of his jeans, where his cock is straining against - rub himself on you, grind on you, his thighs plastered to the back of yours -

‘Joel?’

Fuck.

He sways as he snaps out of his stupor, dangerously close to knocking into you, light-headed from the lack of blood to his brain. He chokes out, ‘Yeah, I got you, sweetheart.’

Get it together, you dirty bastard.

He’s careful to leave a couple of inches between his front and your ass when he bends his elbows and ducks so he can peer beneath the desk. His chest pressed flat against your lower back, he can see the bunched fabric of your shirt where it’s caught.

‘Yup, you’re right, your shirt is snagged tight in there.’

‘Can you untangle it?’

‘Think so, but I’ll need both hands.’ He pauses. ‘I’d better get on my back under you.’

You swear you’re going to black out.

‘Pin?’ he prompts when you’ve been quiet a beat too long.

‘I - um, what do you mean by going under me?’

‘If I’m on my back, I can use both my hands, like a mechanic under a car,’ he explains. ‘If you’re uncomfortable, I can find another way -’

‘No!’ you blurt out, wincing at the desperation in your tone. ‘I mean - whatever is easiest for you. You’re the one doing me a favour here.’

‘Alright,’ he says, placated by your reassurance. ‘On your hands and knees then, sweetheart.’

Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head. Oh, come on. Can he hear himself?

Scraping together your last vestiges of control, you push up on your palms to make space underneath you. You have to consciously lock your elbows - your joints suddenly feel like barely set pudding. 

‘Move as far to your right as possible so I can slide in.’

Shuffling on your hands and knees until you’re pressed up against the band wheel, you hear the brush of fabric on wood - must be his back against the floorboards as he slides in. To say it’s a squeeze is an understatement. His broad shoulders brush the front of your thighs as he inches in, and then, his face appears under yours, head between your hands.

His lips quirk. ‘Hi, sweetheart.’

Your breath hitches at his proximity, your wrists brushing the soft red flannel he’s wearing today. ‘Hi.’

‘You ok?’ he asks.

You’re this close to pouting. What does he think? There’s a telltale stickiness between your legs that you’re frantically trying to push to the back of your mind while you mmhmm noncommittally, hoping that he doesn’t smell your want in the tiny, claustrophobic space you’re now both caught in.

You can only assume that he’s none the wiser, since the next thing that comes of his mouth is - 

‘Climb on top of me so I can slide in closer to the band wheel.’

Someone might as well say your last rites. This is the end.

You’re taken aback when your limbs start to move on autopilot, because your faculties have well and truly abandoned ship. One trembling leg attempts to swing itself over the solid breadth of his body, but it wobbles like jelly, and your knee ends up connecting firmly with his stomach instead of landing clear on his other side.

At his grunted oomph, you panic and bang your head on the underside of the table again, which sends your whole weight sprawling onto his front with a yelp.

Joel cradles the back of your scalp with one hand. ‘Shit, you ok, sweetheart?’

The seams of your lashes sting, your head smarting with the impact, and you blink drily as your gaze focuses on Joel under you. He’s so close that you can see flecks of gold in his brown eyes, his breath hitting your face in warm puffs. Your glance at his lips, and with that one little motion, all goes quiet.

He watches you back, neither of you breathing, and in the stillness you realise that you’re fully straddling him, your palms pressing into the hard floor on either side of his ears. Your tits are crushed up against his ribs, his soft tummy warmly cushioned under you. Lower still, where your hips are nestled into the spread of his thick thighs, something stiff and long and insistent presses into you -

Your jaw goes slack when it dawns on you. 

Oh god.

He’s hard.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Joel breaks the silence, a pained frown on his brow as he shakes his head. ‘This is embarrassin’. Couldn’t fuckin’ help it, seein’ you in those jeans -’

Tongue-tied, you can only stare at him, wishing you were brave enough to say something. Tell him that you pulled extra shifts to buy this particular pair of jeans, knowing that they flatter your figure. That you’ve worn them almost every day these two weeks, hoping that he’d swing by again. 

But you can’t. 

So you pray that he can see what you can’t say by the way you’re looking at him, by the way your heart races wildly in your ribcage against his chest.

His voice cracks. ‘I understand if you want me to go -’

You unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth and cut in, ‘Don’t.’

His warm eyes widen, something like hopefulness in the way he looks up at you. ‘You don’t want me to go?’

You press your body closer into his, filling in the gaps. ‘No. Please don’t, Joel.’

He leans forward, so close that you can feel the phantom burn of his silvered beard, his palms finding the meat of your legs, blunt nails biting into the denim.

He really should be ashamed of himself, at the way his cock pulses unabashedly, nudged right between your thighs as you stare down at him, lips parted. He’s hard enough that he worries if there’s a wet spot of precum on the front of his jeans - he can feel himself leaking through his boxers. 

The wicked tip of your tongue traces a wet trail on your bottom lip, and he almost chokes on a half-buried groan deep in his chest. He knows that you don’t even know you’re doing it - and in turn, what that does to him.

It would be easy to close the two-inch gap between you. To kiss you, taste you, lick into your sweet mouth. All he needs to do is to cup the back of your head and pull you down, or crane his neck and press his lips to yours -

And Joel is someone who always follows the path of least resistance. 

But - he wants to do right by you. He knows you deserve more than a quick fumble under a table.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Joel steels himself and brushes a chaste thumb over your cheekbone. ‘Let’s get you out of here, and then we can talk, ok?’

It’s almost perverse the way his chest warms at the flicker of disappointment in your eyes as you give a reluctant nod, ‘Ok. Please be careful, the Singer’s really delicate.’

It’s hard to focus - his attention keeps drifting to how snugly you fit into his chest, between his arms, and it’s not a stretch to imagine a soft mattress underneath his back. It's funny how quickly his body has adjusted to creature comforts after months of sleeping on the cold winter ground.

Joel’s mindful that an antique sewing machine will be a pain in the ass to repair without the requisite parts, so he moves carefully, gently coaxing the band wheel back and forth to see how he can extract you. It doesn’t take long to loosen the grip of the metal teeth on your shirt, but he has to reach up and untangle the threads snagged into the mechanisms one by one.

He muses idly that this is not his method. These hands of his, with crooked knuckles that never healed right, where many a dagger, knife, gun, rifle have found a home - they break things, people.

When was the last time someone asked gentleness of him? 

He wants to scoff. That’s not what he’s good for.

Despite himself, his throat rumbles with a hum of satisfaction when the band wheel finally lets go of your shirt, the Singer whirring to life as it spins freely. He gives you a lopsided smile. ‘There you go, sweetheart.’

You smile, but don’t seem to be in a hurry to move, which pleases him. He likes looking at you from this angle, relishing in your weight on him. He takes his time running his eyes over your face, his palms coming to rest on your knees.

You duck your head prettily. ‘Thank you, Joel.'

He gives you a playful shrug. ‘Well, I owed you one for these jeans.’

You roll your eyes in good humour. ‘Actually, I told you specifically that you didn’t.’

Joel basks in the lighthearted turn in the conversation, egging you on, ‘Well, in that case, you owe me one for this instead.’

‘That’s hardly fair -’ you chide him, punching him in the shoulder in a half-hearted rebuke.

Taking the opportunity, he grabs you by the wrist, the contact prompting a bodily shudder from you that he doesn’t miss. He smirks, ‘M’fraid I don’t play fair, sweetheart.’

You glare at him in mock sternness, bold enough to demand, ‘Fine - what do you want then, Joel Miller?’

For a split second, he hesitates, woefully out of practice at whatever it is that he’s about to do. Swallowing his self-doubt, he asks, ‘Tommy and Maria are throwing a baby shower on Sunday at their house - do you want to come?’

Your shoulders stiffen. Now, that you were not expecting. Your social anxiety bubbles between your ribs and looms over you like a spector. You sputter, ‘Um, I -’

You start when his fingers draw soothing circles on the top of your knees, as if seeing straight through the source of your apprehension. He reassures you, ‘Lucy is welcome to join too. The more the merrier.’

Your eyes soften. ‘Ok. I’d love to.’

The endearing way the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles has you swaying towards him, his nose just brushing the side of yours - when the doorbell rings, cutting through the loaded silence. 

In your haste to sit up, you knock your head against the table for a third time. 

‘Ow!’ you cry. Even Joel flinches at the hard hit.

Lucy calls out, sounding dangerously close. ‘Pin? You ok, hon?’

‘Shit!’ You start scrambling backwards, bent over awkwardly, convinced that you’re one more blow away from a concussion. You’ve barely scrambled onto your feet when Lucy steps into the workshop, the world tilting on its axis for a moment as blood rushes to your brain. 

She watches in amusement as Joel drags himself from under the sewing station, head cocked to one side. ‘Hi again, stranger. You really like our shop, don’t you?’

His shirt is rumpled from where you sat on him, bits of his curls sticking up. He rubs the back of his neck, as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar. ‘I just swung by to, uh, invite you and Pin to the baby shower. Tommy and Maria’s. This Sunday.’

Lucy crosses her arms, arching an eyebrow. ‘And it’s a tradition where you’re from to talk about weekend plans under a table?’

You narrow your eyes at her. ‘Luce -’

She winks. ‘You know what? I don’t need to know the gory details - but I’m in. See you Sunday, Miller!’

Joel huffs a chuckle as Lucy disappears into the front of the shop, leaving you two alone. You smile, suddenly shy for no reason, twining your fingers to stop from fidgeting. ‘Thanks again, Joel.’

He shrugs it off, a touch of boldness in the way he stands, hands in pockets, hips cocked. ‘Pleasure was all mine, sweetheart.’

Instead of heading in the direction of the door, he takes two long strides towards you, leaning down to murmur in your ear, ‘Wear those jeans for me again on Sunday?’

Stunned, you gape at him as he turns with a crooked grin and walks off, dispatching a two-fingered salute at Lucy as he goes. Pausing by the threshold, Joel gives you one last wink that has your breath stuttering - but you only allow yourself to sag against the wall when the door closes behind him, your knees giving.

Lucy wastes no time skipping back into the workshop, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. ‘Alright, time to raid the party clothes rack, girl!’

You laugh - Sunday can’t come fast enough.

Notes: I had the best time writing this chapter - it was fun to flip the tables on Pin, not that Joel comes out completely unscathed!

I definitely have ✨ideas✨ for these two, but I'm enjoying keeping things loose, so I have no plans to turn this into a full-blown series just yet. I hope you enjoyed this instalment, comments/reblogs/asks are so so appreciated as always ❤️

[starseungs]

han jisung x gn!reader. fluff, slight angst, brother's friend au. kinda school au. 0.9k wc.

note: mentions of y/n having trouble eating due to stress. yes this is VERY self indulgent (like my other jisung fics) leave me alone </3 i need this ... also watch me reuse odd for the nth time in this fic lol

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

[ 7:24 PM ] You were odd. That was the first thought that came into Jisung’s mind when he first met you. In his defense, who in their right mind wouldn’t think that way after witnessing you chop up a cheesecake into bite-sized squares?

Well, even “meet” was a strong word for that moment, really. He simply stumbled upon you in that horrendous act—in your own family’s kitchen, no less. Jisung had only expected to grab a couple of cold sodas from your fridge, with the permission of his friend, your older brother. Instead, he had to witness a terrifying massacre of one of his favorite desserts on the planet.

However, Jisung didn’t say anything about it. He just walked over to the fridge and did as he was told, ignoring the curious stares you pointed at him. At that short-lived interaction, he merely left the impression as is. You were odd.

Jisung soon came to realize that his first perception of you would be a running theme throughout everything that had to do with you in his life.

It was odd—the way you laughed and joked around with your friends at school. He found himself watching you carefully across the cafeteria hall, not even sure about what he was supposed to be looking at. You were eating well; even though it was just a light snack. To be fair, what else would you be doing in the cafeteria hall during lunch time, if not that? Yet, it still didn’t sit right with him to the point that he wanted to march up over to your table and feed you something more filling himself.

You were smiling, at least. A genuine one, if he could tell properly.

“What’s got all your attention?” It was only then that Jisung’s staring got broken off. Jeongin looked at him expectantly for an answer—one that Jisung didn’t want to give him as your brother.

Jisung sucked in a breath. “Nothing. I was spacing out, that’s all.”

Yes, it was truly odd. 

Odd, like the way his eyebrows immediately furrowed when you slammed through the front doors of your house one afternoon, heavily stomping towards your room. Another slam echoed through the house, telling of the way you treated your bedroom door with the same care. Jisung feels like he just swallowed a pebble.

“Don’t mind them,” Jeongin huffed, clearly annoyed at how you acted in front of a guest. “Y/N’s always got something going on.”

Jisung’s mouth only soured further. Now, that can’t be right. He had seen the way you acted when you were happy, or just going through the motions of the day. Compared to those looks of yours that he had unknowingly burned into his memory, the expression you had on was definitely a telltale sign that you were upset.

And just like that, he found himself telling his friends that he needed to use the bathroom. If he remembered correctly, your room was just right down the hall, which just so happened to be next to said bathroom. Jisung really didn’t want to call himself nosy, but when his ears picked up the sound of sniffling, his right hand was knocking softly at your door in an instant.

How odd.

Your door creaked open after a few more seconds, along with your confused face peaking out. He watched your expression break out into a tight smile when you saw him. Your eyes had a slight tint of red. “Did you need anything? The bathroom is the door behind you, by the way.”

Jisung didn’t know why, but he felt a sharp sting on his chest when he saw your smile. It wasn’t genuine, if he could tell. “Stop that,” he blurted out suddenly. Your face fell as his unexpectedly cold tone.

“Sorry?”

“You don’t want to smile,” Jisung pointed out, pursing his lips as if he had tasted something foul. You scoffed in disbelief.

“How polite of you.”

Now, Jisung was at a loss. What exactly was his purpose for this conversation? Not that he knew—just that he started it and had nowhere to lead to. Luckily, your stomach growled loudly, as if to save him from his misery. “Oh, we have pizza downstairs. If you want some.” 

Great job, Jisung. How smooth of you.

“I—” Your face felt warm in embarrassment, causing you to immediately clutch your stomach in a sad attempt at hiding it. To Jisung, it seemed like you were about to say something in retort before something possibly unpleasant crossed your mind. You sighed tiredly instead. “I’m not too sure if I can stomach something right now.”

Jisung frowned at your excuse. “Are you stressed?” You raised an eyebrow at his question. He quickly backpedals at the realization of how direct he just was. “I—uh, I meant if you’re having a hard time?”

Somehow, that seemed to work since you managed to crack an amused smile. Jisung finds himself thinking about how pretty your genuine ones are. 

“And if I am?”

“Then you need to eat,” he nods firmly, casually trying to chase away the thoughts swirling in his mind at that moment. “I’ll get you just a slice and water. You don’t have to finish the slice, but at least finish the glass.”

Jisung couldn’t help the way he caught sight of how your pretty lips parted open in shock. Your grip on your doorknob tightened ever so slightly. “Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t know,” he says truthfully. “Something is telling me to. It’s odd.”

“You—”

“I’m Jisung.” He turns to walk away. “Be right back.” A low exclamation of bewilderedness came out of you before you called out to him again.

“I already know that, dummy!” He unconsciously grins at that. You were so odd. 

And Jisung starts to think that he likes odd.

MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @minsueng @l3visbby @myjisung @thecutiepieme

[strnilolover]

.✦ ── Don’t Run ── ✦.

♫ Don’t Run • Corbyn Besson

♡ !ex matt x !ex reader

⚠︎ warnings : unresolved angst, break up, argument, crying, guilt, matts pov, tiny sprinkle of asshole matt (sorry), mentions of drinking, mentions of sleeping with multiple people, hurt with a sprinkle of comfort, and more.

♡ wc : tbc

♡ a/n : angsty time. I absolutely love Corbyn (i used to be a wdw fan) and just listening to this song made me think of an angst thing for matt. again, angst is not my strong suit! so sorry if it’s not the best. (i hope this makes you guys cry at least a little 🥰)

The memory of the fight still played on a loop in Matt’s head like a bad song stuck on repeat. It was supposed to be a regular night, one of those long, exhausting ones after a day of filming.

Matt had just wrapped up editing, a process that always left him on edge when it was his turn instead of Nicks or Chris’. His brothers had already gone to bed, the apartment quiet except for the hum of his computer and the soft notifications buzzing on his phone.

You had walked into his room with that look — the one that told him you had something heavy on your mind, the weight of the conversation already thick between you both.

“We need to talk, Matt,” you said, voice wavering slightly, like you were trying to gather the courage to finish your sentence. He didn’t even turn around at first, fingers tapping away at his keyboard as if he could escape whatever storm was brewing behind him.

“Can it wait?” he muttered, eyes not leaving the screen. “I’m almost done here.”

You took a breath, sighing.“No, it can’t,” you insisted, voice soft but firm. “We keep putting it off, and I can’t pretend everything’s fine anymore.”

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a second before turning to face you. “What’s wrong?” he asked, though his tone carried exhaustion more than genuine curiosity.

“Matt, you’re never here,” you started, taking a shaky breath. “Not really. I know you’re busy, but I feel like I’m always waiting for you to show up. And when you do, you’re just so... distant.” your teeth tucked your bottom lip between them, chewing slightly.

“What are you talking about?” Matt frowned, confusion and defensiveness rising within him. “I’m not distant. I’m working — this is what I do. It’s my job.” his tone coming out a little harsher than intended.

“I know,” you said softly, “but you’re more than your job, Matt. At least, you used to be. And now, it’s like I’m just another part of your day that you have to get through.” you stated, your face now burning with the force to hold back your tears.

“That’s not fair,” he shot back, shaking his head. “You know I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. We’re trying to grow the channel more, and that takes time and effort.” he defended, the harsh edge still there.

“I get that,” you replied, your voice shaking slightly, continuing to hold back your tears. “But you can’t keep using that as an excuse to shut me out.”

“Shut you out?” Matt’s voice rose unintentionally, frustration creeping in. He caught himself and softened his tone, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “I’m not trying to shut you out. I’m just trying to keep everything from falling apart.”

You shook your head. “I never asked you to fix everything,” you whispered, and he could see your resolve breaking. “I just wanted you to care enough to show up for me, too.”

He stood there, struggling to find the right words. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, sounding almost defeated. “Quit? Stop doing what I love?”

“No, Matt,” you said, tears streaming down your face now. “I want you to fight for me, the way you fight for everything else.”

The silence that followed was deafening. He looked at you, seeing the raw hurt in your eyes, and his stomach twisted with the realization of just how far apart you both had grown.

“I didn’t know it was this bad,” he admitted, voice cracking slightly.

You wiped at your cheeks, frustration mingling with sadness. “You never asked, Matt. You never noticed.”

He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. Panic started to creep in as he saw you pulling away, the finality of the moment settling heavily on his chest. “Wait — wait, just... we can fix this,” he pleaded, stepping closer, but you shook your head, taking a step back.

“I can’t keep waiting for you to choose me, Matt,” you choked out. “I love you, but I can’t keep pretending that love is enough to make up for feeling so alone.”

Matt’s breathing quickened, his eyes widening as the weight of your words sank in. “No, no, please, don’t do this,” he begged, reaching out to grab your hand, but you pulled away. “I’ll change, I’ll do whatever it takes, okay? Just don’t leave.”

Your voice trembled as you responded, “It’s not just about changing, Matt. It’s about knowing that I matter to you, and right now, I don’t feel like I do.” your voice cracked, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you sniffled.

“You do matter,” he insisted, his voice desperate and raw. “You matter more than anything. I just — I didn’t realize how much I was screwing this up. Please, just give me a chance to fix it.”

Your silence and sniffles was the only answer he got, and he could see the pain etched into every line of your face. “Goodbye, Matt,” you whispered, voice breaking as you turned and walked out of the room.

“Wait — please,” he called after you, voice cracking as he took a step toward you, but you didn’t stop. The door closed softly behind you, and Matt felt the ground crumble beneath him.

-

It was seven in the morning, and Matt was staring at the ceiling, the light from the window seeping through the cracks in the blinds. The early morning quiet didn’t give him the solace he’d hoped for. Clothes lay in disarray across the floor, some his, some not his — reminders of choices that never filled the ache in his chest.

He turned his head slightly, watching the figure sleeping beside him, a tangle of dark hair and skin that wasn’t yours. But his mind, God, it betrayed him. Every movement in the sheets, every breath that wasn’t your soft sigh haunted him.

The pain of that night never really left him. It clung to him like a shadow, and he hated himself for letting you go. But he couldn’t bring himself to admit it out loud, not when the damage was already done. So he drowned himself in anything and anyone that wasn’t you, hoping it would numb the ache in his chest.

Baby, she ain’t you.

A bitter chuckle slipped past his lips as he closed his eyes, blocking out the world he was trying too hard to pretend he wanted. The way she shifted closer made his skin crawl with guilt, with the incessant buzzing of his mind screaming that this wasn’t what he needed.

He could practically hear you in the back of his head, that knowing voice echoing through the cracks of his resolve, warning him, like you always did, when he was doing something that would hurt him in the long run.

But he ignored it. He always ignored it. Trying to force a needle through skin that never belonged to him in the first place, grasping at someone else because he couldn’t hold onto you.

Matt slid out of the bed, grabbing his jeans off the chair and shoving them on, the harsh sound of a zipper loud in the silence. He didn’t look back; he couldn’t. Stumbling out of the door, he let it close softly behind him, letting the other girl stay asleep, oblivious to the mess he was internally drowning in.

His phone was warm in his hand, and it shook as he tapped open your contact, thumb hovering over the call button. It was so simple — just one tap, and he could hear your voice, maybe hear the softness it used to hold when you whispered his name, or the anger that he deserved when he left you standing in the pouring rain, shattered and holding onto every piece he threw away.

But what if you didn’t want to hear it anymore?

He locked his phone and stuffed it into his back pocket. The hangover made his vision blur at the edges, and his heart thumped heavily with the beat of regret in his chest. He knew drinking and getting girls into his bed was not a good way to cope with his feelings. It had been months since that night, and he was only serving to hurt himself worse.

Was this what it felt like to need someone? He had never felt the desperation like this, the longing, the brokenness that came from knowing you lost the one thing that could keep you steady.

My heart’s been stuck at a red light since you said we’re done.

Matt was back at his apartment — when did he get here?, he doesn’t know. Everything blurring together as his mind just went on autopilot. The cold still silence was more suffocating than the noise of the city.

He could still feel the weight of your memory around him, wrapped in the Prada perfume you used to wear. It lingered in the fibers of his hoodie, in the sheets he hadn’t washed since you left. He buried his face in the fabric, trying to remember what it felt like to hold you, to be someone who made you stay.

“I can change,” he whispered into the emptiness, voice breaking. “If promises still mean the same, I can change.” But the room didn’t answer. It only offered the suffocating rush of memories and the cruel bite of loneliness.

He closed his eyes, flashes of you overwhelming him — the way you laughed, bright and full, even when he was too wrapped up in his own darkness to appreciate it. The way you said his name, like he was your safe place, your home. He remembered how your voice cracked when you broke things off, when you turned away with tears in your eyes, and he was too much of a coward to stop you.

He couldn’t even fake it, the weight of his mistakes pressing down with every breath. He could still hear the gunshots from the last movie night you two had, his fingers intertwined with yours until he pulled away. The pain was like those casings — empty, spent, and irreversible. Maybe you had already moved on; maybe you found someone who didn’t take your presence for granted, who didn’t make you run.

But he couldn’t stop missing you. He missed you like he needed air, like you were the last drop of water in a desert he willingly walked into.

Is this what it feels like to need someone?

He opened his phone again like he did earlier — eyes scanning over the multiple contacts of random women he has slept with. But he wasn’t focused on them, instead his fingers trembled as he opened your contact and started typing. The words came easily because they had been locked inside for too long, festering and aching to be let out.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I can change, I promise. I miss you every day, in every way. Please, don’t run. I’m not ready for this to be over.

He hovered over the send button, heart hammering in his chest, a tightness in his throat making it hard to breathe. The minutes ticked by, each second dragging. But the fear of you not responding was enough to keep his thumb still.

Then the door to his room creaked open, and his heart jumped, thinking for one wild, desperate second that it might be you. But it wasn’t. It was Nick, looking worried, like he always did whenever Matt got like this.

“Matt, you okay?” Nick asked softly, stepping closer but not too close. Not wanting to risk the possibility of Matt telling him to go away — to leave him alone, when he knew he couldn’t just do that.

Matt froze for a moment swallowing hard. He shook his head, unable to speak, unable to express the loss that consumed him. His phone slipped from his grip, landing on the floor with a soft thud. The unsent message glowed in the dim light, a plea never spoken out loud.

“C’mere,” Nick muttered as he walked over and sat on the edge of his bed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, trying to offer the support Matt was too stubborn to ask for.

Matt buried his face in his hands, the tears coming faster now, the weight of the world finally breaking him. “She’s gone,” he choked out. “I let her go.”

Nick’s hand tightened around his shoulder, and for a while, they stayed like that, the only sounds in the room being Matt’s uneven breathing and the hum of city traffic outside.

Is this what it feels like to need someone?

He didn’t know if he could ever find the answer, but the only thing he knew for certain was that he wasn’t ready — and will never be ready to let you go.

© strnilolover

[polkadotpenguin16]

The Five Stages of Grief: Anger

A/N: sorry it took me so long to get this up! It's been a crazy couple weeks and I hadn't had any time (or will, frankly) to do any editing. But it's here now! Also, guess who finally got an AO3 account? The story's posted over there now as well.

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader

Tags: still angsty; language

Word count: 3.4K (I'm sorry, I got carried away!)

Previous parts: Prologue | Denial

After Amanda got her kids in bed, she decided to catch up on The Bachelor. He was about to give away his final rose when she was interrupted by her door buzzer. Begrudgingly, she got up to see who could be stopping by at this hour.

“Who is it?” She asked through the intercom, annoyance evident in her voice.

“Um, it’s Carisi. Can, uh…can I come up?”

That’s definitely not who she was expecting. Intrigued, she buzzed him in. She answered the door to a crestfallen Sonny. His hair was in disarray when it was usually cemented in place with gel. It looked like his eyes were red from rubbing them.

Her face of confusion morphed into one of sympathy. “I take it dinner didn’t go well?”

Sonny stood in the doorway with his mouth agape. He was completely lost for words. This was not where he planned on being tonight. But he didn’t want to be by himself, so he came to Rollins looking for the support of a friend.

“Why don’t you come in?” Ushering him inside, she observed his disheveled clothes as he dragged his feet through her living room. He was really out of it. She went into her kitchen looking for something to cheer him up. “It was pizza night at the Rollins household, if you want some.” She called to him while rummaging through her refrigerator. “I can get you a beer or—”

Peeking around the corner, she saw Sonny sitting on her couch. Resting his elbows on his knees, cradling his head in his hands. It looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. You must’ve said something pretty awful at dinner to have broken him like this.

Changing course, she grabbed some glasses and a bottle of bourbon from the cabinet and joined him on the couch. “So, let me take a wild guess.” She poured a glass for him and herself. “She didn’t accept your apology?”

He picked up his glass and took a gulp. “Didn’t even come by for me to give it.”

“Ouch…” After hearing how you walked out on him, Amanda didn’t think dinner and an apology would fix much. But she at least expected you to tell him to his face. “That’s cold.”

“You’re telling me,” he replied flatly. He took another swig, welcoming the burning in his throat. Anything would feel better than the disappointment coursing through his veins.

“Can’t even believe it,” he huffed while staring at his glass. “I ruined the best thing that ever happened to me by missing a dinner reservation.”

“You know, if that’s all it took to ruin it…maybe it wasn’t all that good to begin with.” Amanda thought Sonny might’ve been looking at you through rose-colored glasses.

“I thought it was.” His face was full of sorrow and remorse as he finished his drink. “I know we haven’t spent as much time together lately. But when we were together, I thought we were doing fine.”

“What’d she say when she left?” She asked, trying to gauge your actions as she poured him another drink.

“She was tired of being an afterthought.”

She puffed out a breath and shook her head. “Well, I guess she didn’t know what she was signing up for when she decided to date a cop.” Amanda knew the toll working at SVU took on having a personal life. It was a balancing act that required a lot of sacrifices from romantic partners that most weren’t willing to make. You weren’t from their world. You probably wouldn’t understand.

“I’ve been trying my best.” His voice was dripping with frustration and exhaustion. “Trying to be a good detective, a good brother, a good boyfriend…”

“I know you have.”

“Then why can’t she see that?”

“What’s she expecting you to do? Quit your job?”

“I don’t know! She won’t even talk to me!” Exasperated, he slammed his glass on the table. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. You were supposed to be home together. Apologizing to each other. Hugging one another and promising to do better.

“Look, Carisi, maybe you need to let this go—”

“I don’t wanna lose her, Rollins!” That was his worst fear. With all the horrors he’d witnessed, he was petrified something would happen to you. Something that would take you away from him. He just never thought that something would end up being himself.

“Okay, okay.” She set her glass down and grabbed his arm, trying to grab his attention. “Now, I don’t claim to be the expert on relationships here. But if this was it, the ‘true love’ you thought it was, would she have walked away so easily?”

Sonny’s hand began to tremble. He didn’t want to think about that possibility. He loved you and was doing the best he could. He was trying to make everyone happy. Why wasn’t that enough for you?

“I just wish she’d talk to me,” he muttered quietly.

“I’m sure she will,” she reassured him, patting him on the shoulder. “She can’t ignore you forever. But make sure you’re prepared for what she’s got to say.”

He picked his glass up and gazed down into the brown liquid. Swirling it around, he searched for answers as to what went wrong and what to do next. Unable to find any, he took another drink.

Fin and Sonny had to go out to Brooklyn to talk to a witness. After they finished the interview, they walked back to their car as Fin tried to make him feel better.

“Look, man, all I’m saying is it could be worse. At least you got the apartment.” It wasn’t working. “When my ex-wife got mad, she’d kick my sorry ass out. Spent a lot of time couch surfing those days.”

Sonny could barely hear what Fin was saying. He was preoccupied with his raging headache, courtesy of his hangover from yesterday. He was pissed. And the more he thought about it, the more pissed he got. He texted you late last night and this morning hoping you’d respond.

Doll, please answer me.

I can’t fix this if you don’t talk to me.

Are you just gonna ignore me forever?

But he was met with radio silence. He was at the end of his rope. A relationship was a two-way street, and he couldn’t repair it alone. He was beginning to think you had no interest in trying. He was brought back to reality when he recognized a familiar bank a few blocks ahead. Your bank.

You could avoid his calls and texts, but there was one thing you couldn’t ignore.

“What’d you say we grab some lunch before heading back? I’m starving.” Fin asked as they passed by a deli.

“You go ahead. I, uh…got an errand I need to run. Meet you back here in twenty.” He picked up his pace and sprinted down the street.

You were busying yourself with work. Color-coding your spreadsheets. Reorganizing your filing cabinet. Again. There was a lot of thinking to do, and you were just not up to it.

The texts from Sonny didn’t go unnoticed. It felt like your phone was burning a hole in your pocket. You knew you needed to talk. You were only avoiding the inevitable. Conflict really wasn’t your thing. You were more content to suffer in silence than voice your concerns. Being so passive helped you get through life. But it also got you walked over on multiple occasions.

You weren’t sure if you could move forward together. You wanted you to kiss and make up. Pretend like the other night never happened. But you knew things would inevitably fall back into the same pattern. Back to going to bed alone. Weekends by yourself. Sonny coming home an exhausted shell of himself. You couldn’t watch him waste away. Nor could you watch him put all his spare energy into caring for another woman. All your emotions were floating around inside you like a whirlpool. They were all tangled together, and you couldn’t separate them enough to know how to explain them to Sonny.

You were going to talk to him. Just…not yet.

The front door opening made you look up from your computer, and you were shocked by what you saw. It was Sonny, swiftly walking towards your desk. And he looked upset. A deer in headlights would’ve looked less stunned than you.

“What…what are you doing here?” You sheepishly asked as he stared you down.

 “We need to talk.” His voice was clipped, answer direct.

“I’m at work, Sonny.”

“Well, you’ve ignored all my other attempts to get your attention.”

“I’m not ignoring you,” you lied poorly. “I’ve just been…busy.”

Not liking your answer, he huffed and crossed his arms. “Why didn’t you come home yesterday?”

“I told you. I needed some time.”

“Well, exactly how much time do you need?”

You didn’t have an answer to that. Your leg started bouncing, and your heart was pounding in your chest. God, why did he have to just show up here? You were already nervous about talking with him before he came. You wanted to get your nerves under control before you met so you could share your feelings with him calmly and eloquently. You weren’t expecting to get ambushed.

“You know, this isn’t even fair. I’ve apologized and tried to make things right, but you won’t even give me the time of day.” Sonny was beyond irritated, his voice becoming steadily louder. “You disappeared in the middle of the night, unable to be reached. Did you know I’ve been worried sick about you?!”

“Everything okay out here?” Your boss called out from behind you. A few colleagues were peeking out to see what the commotion was.

“It’s fine.” You put on a weak smile. “Nothing to worry about.” Your boss eyed Sonny up and down. Suddenly realizing how this looked, he uncrossed his arms and took a deep breath to relax his face. He then felt bad about showing up angry and unannounced. Although he took a small comfort in knowing that your boss cared enough to check on you in a situation like this. Your boss gave you a questioning look, and you gave him a reassuring nod in return. Satisfied enough that nothing dangerous was occurring, he reluctantly returned to his office.

“I’ll come by later tonight, okay?” You had to get him out of here before he got security called. “Now, will you please leave before we make a bigger scene?”

“That’s all I asked for.” He turned on his heel and walked out.

You were surprised to see Sonny made it back to the apartment before you. He was sitting on the couch, looking pensive. Nervously, you walked over to sit on the opposite side. It felt strange being so far away when you had been so close just a couple of days ago. You both sat there for several minutes without speaking.

The silence was killing Sonny. He wanted to rip the band-aid off. To yell, fight, scream, something! He needed to move past the conflict part of this story and get to the happy ending. He wanted to hug you. Smell your hair. Whisper how much he loved you and that everything was going to be alright. But you wouldn’t even look him in the eye.

Fiddling with your sweaty fingers, you tried to figure out how to explain what you felt. But that was easier said than done. There was some deep-seated fear that saying it out loud would make things worse than they already were. You wanted to swallow your feelings and bury them deep inside. To keep them from hurting anyone.

“So, that’s it?” Sonny asked, unable to stay quiet any longer. “We’re just gonna sit here and not say anything?”

You were frozen in your seat. Searching for the right words and the courage to say them.

“Okay, don’t say anything and just listen.” He turned himself to face you. “I know things have been hard for us lately…”

You had a difficult time hearing Sonny over the ringing in your ears. You started to feel lightheaded and your breath quickened. It felt like you were floating outside of your body, looking down at the two of you. You just wanted to disappear.

Sonny could see that you were not hearing his words. He was losing you, even as he sat beside you, to some dark place in your mind. He needed to get you back, to focus on him. “Doll, please you at me,” he pleaded softly, breaking you out of your trance.

You slowly looked up. When you connected with his sad blue eyes, the corners of yours began to feel moist. But you tried to keep any tears at bay. You were not going to cry. You’ve cried enough already.

“How did we get here, sweetheart? How do we get back?” He reached across the length of the couch and offered you his hand, hoping you’d let him pull you out of the darkness. He wanted to be a beacon through the storm he saw in your eyes. A storm of raw, painful feelings that he had no doubt caused.

But you couldn’t take it. Not now.

“Sonny, I don’t know…it’s not that simple—”

“What do you mean ‘it’s not that simple’?” He was trying to remain calm but was starting to lose his composure.

You needed this to stop. Maybe ending things would be better for both of you. No more fighting. No more tears. “I think it might be best if we—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, please.” Shooting up from the couch, Sonny knelt in front of you and grasped your hands. You didn’t pull away, but you couldn’t look at him. “Tell me how to fix this,” he desperately pleaded. He refused to give up on you. “Just tell me what I have to do so we can go back to how we were!”

You took a deep breath, trying to find your voice. “I can’t go back.”

Sonny’s eyes filled with disappointment. “What, why?”

Your instinct was to shrink back into yourself. But you mustered courage you didn’t even know you had. “I’m tired, Sonny. I can’t wait around for you to choose me.”

“Choose you?” He was stunned by your words. “What are you talking about? I’ve chosen you every day since we’ve met!”

This was what you wanted to avoid. You didn’t want to make him angry. You didn’t want a fight. But you were in too deep now.

“I know you think that.” You tried to keep your voice from trembling. “But I’ve felt so lonely in this relationship. It feels like everybody gets the best of you, and there’s nothing left for me.”

He didn’t understand. How could you think that? How could you not see how much he loved you? “Why haven’t you told me this before?”

“When did I have the chance?” You replied with a sigh. “When you got off work in the middle of the night? After you came back from taking care of Amanda?”

This realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He released your hands and took a step back in disbelief. “So that’s what this is really about?” He couldn’t believe that you would think that way. That you thought of him that way.

Your arms were shaky from adrenaline. Arguing like this went against every fiber of your being. “Sonny, she sees more of you than I do.”

“She’s my partner. We work together,” he replied, emphasizing his choice of words.

“It’s not just work,” you countered. “You with her at work, you’re always at her place. Sometimes it feels like you’d rather spend time there than at home…with me. And I’m left here all by myself.”

“That’s not fair!” He snapped defensively. “You have friends and family around you, and she’s got nobody.”

You couldn’t help but huff at his response. “You’re right, I do. Thought I had a boyfriend, too.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“You said it yourself.” You steadied yourself and stood up from your seat. “She has nobody but you. What does that sound like, Sonny?”

“It’s not like that and you know it.”

“I do?” Your cheeks began to flush, and your hands clenched into fists as you raised your voice to match his. You desperately wanted him to hear you. To see your side. “Do boyfriends stand their girlfriends up after canceling date night for two months? Or do they take them home and cook them dinner because they had a bad day?”

You left Sonny speechless. He’d never seen you so angry before. Why you were being so unreasonable? “What more do you want me to say, doll?” He asked through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry about missing dinner. I made a mistake. I thought you’d be more understanding since I was helping a friend.”

“This is more than just missing that date,” you retorted. Months of bitterness were coming to the surface. “This is about you burning yourself to keep everyone around you warm. Are you even happy, Sonny?”

“Excuse me?” He asked, dumbfounded by your question.

“You’re gone from dawn ‘till dusk, working a job that’s draining the life from you. What little spare time you have, you spend it taking care of everybody else. When was the last time you did something for yourself?”

Sonny brows knitted together as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “So you’re saying I should ignore when people need my help?”

You groaned and stamped your foot. He was completely missing your point. “I think you need to start thinking about what matters to you!”

Tensions were high and you were both tired. Physically exhausted, and tired of fighting. Neither of you were thinking straight and were spewing words you didn’t mean.

“This is all because you’re jealous?” He accidentally blurted out in a fit anger. “You’re seriously jealous of a lonely, single mother? You’re—” Sonny bit his tongue to stop himself from going any further. He was losing control of his temper and speaking without thinking things through.

Your jaw dropped in shock from his words. Something snapped inside you, and you could hardly recognize the man in front of you. This wasn’t the Sonny you had fallen in love with. “Not anymore. She can have you.”

You marched towards the door, past a red-faced Sonny. You could’ve sworn you’d seen steam pouring out of his ears. “If you walk out that door, there’s no coming back!” He bellowed at you.

But you ignored his warning. Looking over your shoulder, you yelled, “I’m done third-wheeling this relationship. You can fuck her all you want now!”

You slammed the door and ran down the stairwell. Once outside, you leaned against the building, then collapsed to the ground and sobbed. Your pulse was pounding in your head. It felt like your lungs had collapsed in on themselves, making every breath you took a struggle. You were shaking uncontrollably, experiencing a full-blown panic attack. What did you just do? How could you say those things?

Reaching his boiling point, Sonny punched a hole in the wall. The impact shook the apartment, and one of the picture frames on the mantle crashed to the floor. Needing to cool down before he caused any more damage, he sat down and took some deep breaths, not even noticing the pain radiating from his knuckles. He was disgusted by your accusation. But also equally appalled by what he said. He didn’t mean it. Could never mean it. He didn’t want you to leave.

Once he had his emotions under control, he took a second to observe the aftermath of his rage. A hole in the wall, broken glass on the floor, and a bruised hand. Completely drained, he thought it was best to try and get some sleep. He dragged himself to his bedroom to take off his sweat-drenched clothes and crawl under the covers, hoping sleep would overtake him. But as he stood at the foot of the bed, he couldn’t bring himself to sleep in there. This was your room.

The bed you shared.

It was only a tiny one-bedroom apartment, but he felt so lost in there without you. It wasn’t home if you weren’t here. He grabbed a pillow and blanket and stumbled into the living room, resigned to sleep on the couch. He got as comfortable as he could on the small sofa and closed his eyes. As he tried to fall asleep, the red-hot anger that had fueled him began to diminish. All he was left with was a feeling of emptiness.

Alone. He felt alone.

[stardustprompts]

how to sell a haunted house - grady hendrix sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw ; death , alcohol , language , mental health

‘you need to sit down.’

‘what did you do?’

‘jesus, i’m sorry I’m not doing it the right way. i’m sure you’d be perfect at this.’

‘I find knowing these details makes it easier.’

‘you should have a drink, too.’

‘i’m not going to die. not for a long time.’

‘just because we shared a bathroom for fifteen years doesn’t mean you know a thing about me.’

‘my yoga instructor knows more about me than you do.’

‘I knew you’d do this. I knew you’d show up and start telling everyone what to do.’

‘look, I know you need to be in charge, but I’ve taken care of this.’

‘stop telling me how to deal with things. things are dealt with. I dealt with them.’

‘you can’t argue with someone when they’re upset.’

‘I don’t know what got into me, but I overreacted and I’m not proud of if it, and it wasn’t fair to you.’

‘you always needed everyone looking at you.’

‘I didn’t do it for attention. I did it because I was upset.’

‘I don’t like coming in here anyways. it’s got bad vibes.’

‘you can’t put a price tag on love.’

‘being here is really bad for my mental health.’

‘I know you don’t like me because i’m not successful enough for you.’

‘i’m actually happy with my life.’

‘if we aren’t related, if we met today, we wouldn’t chose to be friends.’

‘I don’t think we should be in here at all. I think my plan was better.’

‘don’t you feel the vibes?’

‘this is happening too fast. we need to slow down.’

‘your house is haunted.’

‘every single time I give you the benefit of the doubt, or I try to help, it comes back and bites me in the ass. every! single! time!’

‘our house is not haunted.’

‘i’m telling you there’s weird vibe. I can feel it in my gut.’

‘methinks thou doth protesteth too much.’

‘ghosts don’t exist.’

‘there are true things and there are false things, and there are no in-betweens.’

‘there are facts, like houses and car accidents and cremation, and there’s bullshit like ghosts and vibes and exorcisms. and if you start getting the true things mixed up with the false things, you’re fucked!’

‘reality is not a consensus!’

‘when you don’t like the way a conversation is going you deflect with personal attacks.’

‘you’re like some kind of emotionally abusive octopus entangling everyone in your word tentacles.’

‘even I know that you don’t go back in a haunted house after dark.’

‘the only things here are memories, and those can’t hurt us.’

‘you’re very threatened by new ideas.’

‘I offered to stay tonight because I thought it would be good for you. i’m hoping it gives you some closure.’

‘why are you so mad at me? is it because you feel guilty?’

‘i’m sorry you remember it that way because that must feel terrible, but that’s not what happened.’

‘stop telling me what I remember!’

‘no one ever says no to you, (name) because we’re all scared you’re going to lose your temper.’

‘oh, fuck you. nice try, (name), but fuck you.’

‘no matter what you did, I still don’t want anything bad to happen to you.’

‘everything has to be a big production and you’re the star.’

‘everything has to be a big production and you’re the star. all because you can’t face the fact that your life is sad and empty.’

‘it’s a little late for you to start being my brother now.’

‘you blew my mind. it felt like we were the only two people left in the world.’

‘no matter what, I don’t want to ditch you here with a bunch of ghosts.’

‘right now what you need, for once in your life, is to listen to me.’

‘the way you’re laughing is actually really, really scary.’

‘none of this is real.’

‘stop being scary.’

‘I don’t think I’m well. I think something is really wrong inside me.’

‘don’t you fucking laugh at me. for the first time ever, my life finally makes sense.’

‘I don’t think I know what’s real anymore.’

‘my explanation is logically consistent. yours is all magical energy.’

‘it was absolutely terrifying.’

‘how much trouble are you in?’

‘look at me. you’re not crazy. this really happened.’

‘don’t make this funny.’

everything you’ve seen tonight, i’ve seen it too.’

‘i’m sorry I wasn’t stronger.’

‘it was easier to pretend nothing happened.’

‘my entire life I’ve always known something was wrong with me. i’ve spend my entire life scared that if didn’t do everything exactly right, reality would unravel around me and I’d lose myself again.’

‘I forgive you.’

‘I hope you feel better. i’m fine.’

‘I didn’t think you had it in you.’

‘get out of here.’

‘all the things I did, I want to forget.’

‘i’m not doing it! i’m not doing it again!’

‘you need to get out of here right now.’

‘it won’t hurt me, but it’ll hurt you. you have to go right now!’

‘don’t let him do this again. don’t let him take over.’

‘I need a beer.’

‘an apology would go a long way.’

‘can you keep it down? I had to lie about what happened to a lot of people.’

‘are you seriously upset with me because I saved your life?’

‘you need to accept reality.’

‘you’ve become such a grouch.’

‘I wish you’d let someone take care of you.’

‘do you agree that there are forces greater than this world and we are helpless in the face of them?’

‘we don’t have time to fuck around.’

‘i’d like to say this the weirdest shit that’s ever happened to me but I have a bad feeling it’s about to get a lot worse.’

‘I told you this was a bad idea.’

‘I think we’re fucked.’

‘this is wrong. what you’re doing is wrong.’

‘let’s talk about something that’s actually interesting.’

‘it just hurts a little. and by ‘a little’ I mean ‘a lot’ and also ‘all the time.’’

[ryker-writes]

I just read your *Azul as a sibling (Broken relationship edition)** and I had an extra angst thought. Just like a second route. But extra extra angst.

⚠️Death mentioned⚠️

The moment the twins stopped his bullies it went to the sibling. They got bully for how they looked, acted, eat just anything and everything they did. Well he seem to gain self-confidence, they lost their own self-confidence. Once they were in same dorm maybe that will change! They thought maybe their brother would still love them! But… if he’s there, brother, why can’t they call him that? Why, when he sees how they’re being treated.. walks away? He could tell her being bullied right? But when they were forced to work at the lounge, they just excepted it. Maybe it’s best to just accept how life is… meaningless. No one would notice if they were gone? No no if they do that, it would just cause more inconvenience for their broth- right Azul. So they can’t, they just have to help Azul by not making trouble for him.

After Azul overblot, they didn’t think anything would change for them. At first it didn’t. But slowly the bullying stopped and they started getting less work hours more… free time. Azul seemed to always be around them but it’s probably just a coincidence. He wouldn’t want to hang out with someone like them. They aren’t anything special. So why is he trying to talk to them? Why does he seem to care? He’s not supposed to care for them! He’s trying to get close to hurt them isn’t he?! To hurt them… To watch them cry just so he can laugh. Wait… why are they crying black… tears? Oh… ha they’re overbloting… in front of Azul… they just caused him a ton of inconveniences didn’t they? Maybe if lucky they won’t wake up. That would help Azul wouldn’t it? Then he doesn’t have to always stop people from calling them his sibling… and just dealing with them all together.

Can I be 💜 anon?? If not that’s fine! Sorry my first inbox interaction is hmm… angsts hah. I just had to share.

Yes! I finally got to your request my dear 💜 anon! I hope you can forgive me if I end up bending it a little bit to not make this as dark. While I don't mind it being dark, it sort of sounds like the reader is a bit suicidal, which I don't want to write about. So the story might be bent a little bit to avoid that.

Request rules and Masterlists

If you missed the other parts you can find it on my broken sibling masterlist

warnings: angst, reader has low self-esteem, thoughts and mentions of death

Azul as a sibling (alternate broken relationship)

you and Azul used to be close

he would always get picked on when you two were kids

but you were always there to defend him

for a long time, you were his best and only friend

until he met the Leech twins

they became his friends and started defending him from the bullies

and while you're happy that Azul got some actual friends, he started hanging out with you less

you wouldn't have minded it as long as he made time for you somewhere

but he didn't even hang out with you at home anymore

to make everything worse, the bullies realized they couldn't target Azul anymore

but now that you were alone, they could target you

and they were ruthless

being alone made you vulnerable every second of every day

everything you did, every step you took, and every part of you was made fun of

it made every day difficult

and you watched from the side as Azul started to get more confident in himself

at times he wouldn't even rely on the twins to help him with things

Azul was shining just like you always knew he would

and you were left behind in the background to be picked apart every day

years went by, and it was finally time for the both of you to attend Night Raven College

Azul and you both got placed in Octavinelle too!

so you had hope that things would be better

and maybe you could talk to Azul again

but the second you walked up to him and called him brother, he was nearly shouting at you not to call him that

why?

why couldn't you call him brother?

you couldn't understand

things got worse too

being at Night Raven College means that the bullies were always there

and there was no escape from them

even in your own dorm, with your classmates and brother there

they still made fun of you and tore you down

everyone just turned a blind eye, even Azul

like you weren't there

like you didn't matter

surely he could tell you were being bullied right?

but he didn't seem to care

Azul barely even spared you a glance during the day

even when he made you work for him, you never got to meet with him directly

instead, Azul would send Jade or Floyd to talk to you

so you worked every day and dealt with the bullies everyday

and you just had to accept that this was the way things were

you couldn't get out of it unless you were to run away from it all

but that would only cause more problems for Azul

that's the last thing you want

so you stayed, and you worked through all the pain

eventually, Azul overblotted

thankfully, he was fine and things continued like normal

at least, they did at first

and then one day, the bullies didn't show up

it was strange, but surely they would be back to normal tomorrow

...but they weren't

the bullies didn't come after you

in fact, when you saw them in one of the hallways, they avoided you

and on top of that, you started getting less work hours

you even saw Azul around more

almost like he was following you

but then he tried talking to you and asked how you were

why was he asking?

did he actually care?

there was no way

you were probably misinterpreting it

why would Azul want to talk with you?

you weren't worth his time

maybe he needed something from you

perhaps a contract to make your life worse

that's probably all he wanted

he never wants to help you

he's only here to make things harder

your cheeks started to feel wet

were you seriously crying?

reaching up, you wiped your tears only to see black

you were overblotting

and Azul looked panicked

you were seriously overblotting in front of him

you were only causing him more problems now

since you were overblotting there was a chance you could die

would that be better for Azul?

would that help him?

you didn't want to die

but does he want you to just go away?

would he want this?

you didn't know, but the black stains only grew

and eventually they clouded your vision

when you woke up next, you were in the infirmary

Azul was sitting in a chair next to the bed, and looking very tired

he noticed you were awake and looked up at you

no words were said between the two of you

but you cried again

this time, with real tears

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (PART SEVEN)

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5- 5.5 - 6 - 7

y/ndevils00

liked by jackhughes, ehaula, and 28,628 others

y/ndevils00 hello everyone, welcome back to your postgame recap: blackhawks edition! unfortunately everyone’s favorite WAG (sorry girls) and social media manager: me, was unable to attend this road-trip due to illness. however, i, of course, still watched this game and have many a comments!

first, what the hell were these boys doing in first period that they couldn’t get a single goal against the blackhawks? had me yelling at the tv!

however, my favorite gingersnap got the first goal of the night 6:19 into the second period! GO HAM! I’M SO PROUD!

following that up, my uncle (we are still not related in any way) got his 11th goal of the season, tying up the game! really had me haula-ing! (get it? haula-ing? hollering? whatever!)

mere minutes after, my dear sweet boqy scored, making us end the second period up by 1!

we opened 3rd period with a camera shot of my boyfriend. that is the face of someone who misses his wonderful girlfriend and cannot wait to come home and take care of her while she is sick (jack come home. i think i need you more than they do.)

we kicked off 3rd period scoring with a goal by mr. edward cullen himself! he really does sparkle, doesn’t he! who knew vamps were so good at hockey?

with not even 4 minutes left in the game, we got an amazing wrap around shot by timo, who has yet to insult me again! i feel like a proud mother!

and lastly, my sweet baby, mercy put the nail in the coffin for this game with an empty net goal, bringing the final score to 6-3! dawson, you have never let me down, unlike your brother, john.

closing off this post, we have some adorable shots of captain swiss and lil jizzy with blackwood.

p.s. i’d like to bring everyone’s attention to my boyfriend’s hand. that’s my favorite hand, because it holds mine <3 jack come home, i have separation anxiety

tagged dougieham, ehaula, jesperboqvist, jackhughes, ryangraves27, tmeier96, dawson1417 and nicohischier

user oh no! i hope you feel better :(

john.marino97 i didn’t even do anything in this game and you still find a way to insult me

y/ndevils00 that’s exactly WHY i insulted you. do better.

jackhughes for once, you actually got what i was thinking about right

y/ndevils00 i’ve been saying you were thinking about me for so long, i was bound to be right eventually

jackhughes i miss you pretty girl

y/ndevils00 aww shucks, you’re making me blush 🤭

jackhughes nevermind never say that again

jackhughes you like my hand? you’re such a sap

y/ndevils00 let’s try that again

jackhughes i like your hand too?

y/ndevils00 why thank you! is it because it holds yours?

jackhughes dawson tells me i should say yes

y/ndevils00 well at least dawson understands how to be affectionate

ehaula i’m begging you to stop using my name as a pun

y/ndevils00 and i’m begging you to hop off my dick

dawson1417 @/y/ndevils00 y/n….

y/ndevils00 i mean, no, thank you. i would like to keep making my puns if that’s okay with you

ehaula since you asked so nicely.. still no

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 how do i work with this?

dawson1417 @/y/ndevils00 you stop making the puns?

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 i can’t do that

user67 sick y/n is so lovey, jack better get home asap

dougieham thank you, y/n!

y/ndevils00 you’re so welcome! now, will you bring me wawa when you guys get back?

dougieham i will. but does jack not feed you?

y/ndevils00 i don’t like his food

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 you know i can see this right?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes no you can’t. this is a private conversation

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 it’s really not

ryangraves27 i’m still not a vampire

y/ndevils00 i’ve never seen you eat garlic so i cannot rule it out as a possibility

ryangraves27 you’ve also never seen me drink blood though

y/ndevils00 look, i don’t know what you’re into

ryangraves27 i’m so confused

dawson1417 y/n, what do we say to marino?

y/ndevils00 @/john.marino97 i’m sorry and i love you both equally 🙄

john.marino97 @/y/ndevils00 this seems anything but genuine

y/ndevils00 dawson, he’s onto us! what do i do?

dawson1417 well i can tell you what you don’t do: that!

tmeier96 i think i learned my lesson from last time. i’ll never insult you again

y/ndevils00 good. actions have consequences and you’d do good to remember that!

nicohischier ❤️❤️

y/ndevils00 you are my favorite, swiss cheese

nicohischier i’m revoking my hearts

y/ndevils00 it’s too late, i already have them they’re mine now

[da-shrimping-station]

Duel Day Drabble

A/N: so i saw on Karasu that it was duel day and honestly? that's cool af i wanna see demons throw hands but ofc we can't get that in game and i can't write for shit but i did my best with this one. hope y'all like it (o yea my MC is there too)

437 words no warnings

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

They were fast. Too fast for human eyes that if it weren’t for the enchanted glasses that Solomon gave, Aren wouldn’t be able to follow the two figures.

Duel Day was coming soon and there was a strange buzz in the air. Aren thinks it’s gotten to Lucifer more so than his brothers. 

“For old time’s sake,” Lucifer had said, coat off and sword in hand. Aren expected something fancier for Lucifer’s weapon and they’re sure that must’ve been the case when he was a seraph. The blade in his hand was barely decorated but wickedly sharp, curving slightly at the tip. Aren thinks his pride lies in his swordsmanship and not the sword itself.

“If you put it that way, I suppose I can’t decline.” Simeon had also taken his white cape off, neatly folding it before handing it to Luke. Aren had seen his rapier before. An elegant sword with a delicate looking guard that swirled and twisted like a ribbon. What surprised Aren was the dagger on his other hand. A parrying dagger, Solomon told them.

Aren expected to see a swordfight like the one in video games or movies but they were quite surprised. 

Their blades clashed quick and brief, metal clanging in a harmonious cacophony as the spar went on. The exchanges were brief too. The mere flick of a wrist could decide whether or not a hit landed. And when it did, they disengaged, assessing the damage, and taking up stances to engage again. The pair had an increasing number of shallow cuts, mostly on their limbs, with each passing round.

Simeon darts forward, arm and sword extended, aiming for Lucifer’s neck. The fallen angel parries, blades sliding off of each other with a shriek. He steps back, avoiding the rapier tip as Simeon tries for another stab. The tip nicked his horn and Lucifer hissed. They disengaged.

“Was that too hard?” Simeon approaches to inspect the damage. There was a noticeable groove near the base of the left horn. “Oh no.”

“I suppose I forgot to take account of my horns when I dodged. You caught me off guard. You almost never go for the head.”

The brothers came running, crowding the eldest to see the cut. It was negligible and it barely stung and they know their brother can take more than that but Lucifer got hit. Satan couldn’t contain his smug grin and Luke can’t stop gushing about Simeon’s swordsmanship. Aren watched with amusement as they got more rowdy, DDD in hand to snap pictures.

Solomon, being the little shit he was, decided to open his mouth.

“So it’s time to settle the bets?”

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

ough fight sceeeenes!!! difficult to write but i do enjoy them

i hope i did a decent job :D barely proofread and edited this i yeeted it here the moment i was done sorry in advance

also how tf can you eyeball how good your dividers look

[bobbybutterfly]

It’s been over 2 weeks since I last posted. Well. I hope that these four pieces were worth the wait.

Mulori! Boy I’m proud of this piece! I tried experimenting with colour by using warmer colours for shadows and cool colours for lights. She’s really giving angel of war descending from the heavens.

What to say about Mulori? Her death! You’re telling me that scout Gosemdouchi got a whole ass music video dedicated to him and Mulori gets NOTHING?! I’m outraged. But her edition of In the Years I Spent Far From Home is just so beautiful. Now I’m writing about it, I’m not sure if they made a separate cover for when she sings it in Operation White Snow or she was always singing it. Non the less it slaps.

Interesting was to see she’s shown often with Commander Gosemdouchi. He personally sends her off on her mission to stop the weasel spies (I’m sorry I don’t remember the name of their group). He cries when she dies, proclaiming they should fire their missiles for Mulori. The reason why I find it interesting is that when I went to write a short story about Mulori’s time in the military, I made them have a let’s say weird relationship. Maybe it got saved in my unconscious memory. Just like with Udochi being scout Gosemdouchi’s younger brother LOL. I thought I made that up but no!

I should maybe go back to that story sometime. Probably change Commander Gosemdouchi to a lower rank hedgehog that still has authority over her. A country leader would not have time to bully some low rank scout. Even though it is quite funny when I think about it.

Oewepali! I got told that this piece lacks depth because I use the same colours in the foreground and background. That’s a problem in all my pieces. It’s my fault for trying to use a very limited colour palette. Also what happened to his left arm and now that I’m looking at it, where’s his tail? The lighting too is… With the lighting in these pieces I wasn’t thinking about where it would logically go. I just made the lighter parts where they would look good compositionally. Yeah. I’m not that proud of the last two pictures.

As for what I think of this character… I originally thought that he got some developmental disability. I thought it would be interesting to write about a character during war that doesn’t really understand what’s going on. Kinda like Forest Gump. After rewatching the series (I still have to rewatch last two episodes) I came to the conclusion that he’s neurotypical but bullied by his brothers into thinking that he’s stupid. In the later episodes he’s shown to be actually quite capable. If I ever write a story featuring him I might give him like dyslexia though. I imagine he and his brothers went through a lot of trauma. Because he was the youngest and maybe had difficulty with learning they picked on him to let their frustration out.

Mulsajo! That’s right! I know his name now! I drew his paw like that because it was like that in the reference. I don’t really like it but I don’t have an idea how I would change it. I did change though, his teeth. My mom shown me rodent teeth because she didn’t like the mice have cat fangs. So he is a little more anatomically correct. Ignore the dog nose and that he’s anthropomorphic. LOL.

I took just so many screenshots! I should sometime post them. I love how they’re drawn in this picture! SO CUTE!

Mulsajo has one of the best designs in the show. The ripped up purple shirt is iconic. It was a while since I’ve seen the episodes with him. Before rewatching the show I thought he was a decent guy. Then I rewatch the show and he’s so mean to poor Oewepali. Dude can’t get a break. My head cannon still is that he’s nice but because they were starving, he’s aloud to be a bit grumpy. He’s also spiritual. Giving us one of the funnier jokes when Oewepali asks if he can eat the big fish only to be told no and then complain that Mulmangcho should have died earlier. This show’s dark humour is pretty great.

I want to develop my own mythology for my AU. Such as the mouse kings being descended from the sea god because Mulmangcho (he’s a king in exile in my AU) is often shown by the sea. It’s something I was thinking about when I drew this piece. It’s also inspired by Mulsajo’s death. Now if we’re talking about a main side character dying, Mulsajo has it the worst. He is never mentioned again in season 1. If you didn’t pay attention you wouldn’t have noticed he died. He is only sort of mentioned in season 2 episode 1. Mulmangcho is in disguise as a squirrel making up stories about what the wolves did to him and his family. He mentions his twelve dead brothers and how they cut off his tail. You begin to realise that he’s talking about what Flower Hill did to him. Obviously the moral is to never trust strangers no matter what they tell you. But I like to view it as a rare sympathetic scene for Mulmangcho. If someone was to write a continuation of season 2 I would like to see them expand on that scene.

Also fan art idea to design Mulmangcho’s 11 other dead brothers?

Last one up is Scout Gosemdouchi. Please don’t pay much attention to the plane. I really got to do some airplane studies. For the background I tried something more graphic and non literal. Lots of people I shown it to think he’s jumping out of the plane.

I actually have some trauma dumping I want to do. I swear it’s related to Squirrel and Hedgehog. If you don’t want to hear me whine about my catholic trauma then skip the next paragraph.

Alright then. Let’s get on with it. So I was like 8 years old. Our whole catholic school went to church. The priest starts preaching about this “real” story from China. The communists were cracking down on Christians. Some soldiers trashed a church. Taking special care the throw the Eucharist on the ground and stomp it with their muddy boots. Later a little girl would sneak into the boarded up church and lick the Eucharist off the ground. One day a soldier noticed her doing that AND SHOT HER ON SIGHT! Lesson? Be willing to die for your god.

I guess I like the cartoon because it reminds me of my childhood. LOL. Be sure to share your stories of childhood indoctrination in the comments! For real though, scout Gosemdouchi’s and Mulori’s deaths are to me the grossest parts of Squirrel and Hedgehog. Luckily I’ve got my head cannons that sort of fix that for me.

Originally this was the first picture I talked about but I found what I had to say was quite depressing. Plus religion is a touchy subject. I hope I didn’t offend anyone. I’m just talking about my own experiences. Also it’s good to have it off my chest. Now I don’t have to think about it anymore! YAY!

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

The Same Page Part 4/?

Part 4 is finally here, enjoy!

Warnings: panic attack, I think that’s it. I’m not big on editing so there’s probably some mistakes.

Synopsis: you let your anger override your fear, and John is there to help.

Same Page Masterlist:

You didn’t dream the rest of the night.

When you awoke, you found that your anger was just as potent and alive that it had been in the middle of the night.

Mycroft was asleep in the chair beside your bed, Sherlock slumbering on your bed right by your side.

You knew how hard they were working to make you feel safe, but that didn’t change how much they had lied to you in the past two years. You weren’t ready to let that go just yet.

Your shaking fingers found your phone, and you pressed John’s number, relieved when he answered right away.

You got straight to the point.

“I need you.”

John didn’t hesitate.

“Where are you?”

“Mycroft’s.” You lowered your voice when the man in question stirred. “I can’t be here. With them. Not right now. Please come get me.”

“I’m on my way.”

…

John was nervous, not a feeling he was incredibly used to. He had faced down murderers, terrorists, basically every form taken by the scum of the earth, and yet none of that had prepared him for what had happened in his life the past two years.

As if losing his best friend to suicide wasn’t bad enough, he had to watch you, the girl who had become like a little sister to him, spiral into a depression that nearly destroyed you, and nearly destroyed him to watch.

And now that the person who had caused all that pain—albeit for a good reason—was finally back, he knew you had to be just as angry as him—if not more. That wasn’t something he was used to. He almost never saw you angry—he was always the hothead at Baker Street, never you.

But this was different.

You slid into the car the second John slowed to a stop in Mycroft’s driveway.

“Do they know you’re leaving?”

“Just drive.”

John hesitated. “They’re going to-“

“John. Drive.” He saw your clenched fists, your narrowed eyes, and your tense jaw, and knew that he had never seen you this angry before. It wasn’t something he was about to mess with. He stepped on the gas and the two of you journeyed away from Mycroft’s house.

“What happened?” John asked after several minutes of tense silence. Something had to have made you snap like this.

“I realized I was the only one,” you weren’t looking at John, your gaze directed out the window.

John frowned, “Not the only one. Only a handful of people knew-“

“The only Holmes.”

Oh.

“I’m sure they thought-“

“Mycroft was the one who told me the news. About—about the suicide,” you spat the word out, your teeth gritted in anger. “He watched me fall apart day after day for two years-“ your voice suddenly caught, your anger giving way to tears. “And my mum and dad…they knew, they knew all of it, and they let Mycroft lie to me. They lied to me,” this time when your voice broke off, you didn’t bother trying to start speaking again. The tears had overwhelmed you, and John watched helplessly as you cried into your hands next to him.

John pulled into the parking lot next to a cafe that you both liked, and he leaned over your armrest and wrapped his arms around your shaking frame.

“I’m so sorry.”

…

“I’m sure she’s alright.”

“Alright? Sherlock, you don’t understand, she hasn’t left this house in-“ Mycroft broke off, turning away from his brother to continue scouring your room for evidence to your whereabouts.

Another thing Sherlock wasn’t used to: being the calm one. But perhaps Mycroft was right, perhaps he wasn’t grasping the seriousness of the situation, because he wasn’t used to you being like this, not being able to care for yourself. You had always been rather independent, and Sherlock was all but certain that your grief wouldn’t have robbed you of that quality.

But perhaps he just didn’t understand you. He never had, not really.

But you always understood him. You were a quiet girl, so when Sherlock wanted someone to wow with his observations, you were a perfect listener, and when he went quiet for days on end, intent on his work, you would curl up on the sofa across from him and crack open a book, the two of you lapsing into comfortable silences.

You didn’t have his kind of intelligence, but you loved to listen to his ramblings about whatever case he was on, and every once in a while you would give him an angle that he hadn’t thought of. You weren’t a partner-in-crime the way John was, but you were good company, and you were very patient with him, a quality not found in most people Sherlock met.

But more than any of that, you were his baby sister, and while he had never completely grasped average human sentiment, he knew that he would rather die than see harm come to you. He wanted to see you safe and happy, the way you had been two years ago before Moriarty had robbed you of both.

“Sherlock!”

Sherlock snapped back into focus at his brother’s outburst.

“What?”

“Would you please just focus? I can’t have you distracted, not with her missing.”

Sherlock sighed impatiently.

“We don’t know for certain she’s missing. Just because she isn’t in the house doesn’t mean she’s lost. Have you tried John?”

“Yes. He doesn’t answer.”

“Well then there is your answer. He would have answered unless she asked him not to.”

Mycroft nodded. He may have been more accustomed to you in the past two years, but Sherlock knew John.

…

“That’s the third time he’s called.” John sounded almost worried. You didn’t care.

“I know, John. Just ignore him.”

The two of you had gone inside the cafe, and John was sipping on a cup of coffee while you picked at a muffin.

“I know you’re angry at him, but he’s going to be worried sick about you.”

You didn’t bother with a response to this.

John sighed, “So what now?”

You look up at him, biting your lip. You really hadn’t thought any of this out.

“I don’t know, I guess. I just needed some space.”

“You’re going to have to face him. Both of them.”

“Can’t I just stay with you for a little while?”

John hesitated. He didn’t think it was a good idea, but he also knew how stubborn you could be. If he denied you, you might just push harder.

“Alright. For a bit.”

You smiled at him, and the two of you fell into silence for a while.

“They care about you.”

You were surprised by John’s sudden change in demeanor. His eyes were like laser beams, hyper focused on you, and his sudden analysis made you squirm.

“I know that. But they-“

“What would you have done, in their condition?”

You stared back at John, meeting his gaze.

“Why are you asking me this? Don’t I have a right to be hurt by what they did?”

“Of course you do. But this, what you’re doing now, isn’t going to solve anything. You know that they only acted to protect you, and even though their actions hurt you, their intentions were out of love. You trying to hurt them back won’t fix what’s happened.”

You shake your head, “I’m not trying to hurt them back. I just…I don’t think I can-“

“You don’t want to face them, I get it. But you have to. They’re your brothers, and they care for you. Forgive them.”

You stared at John, and he stared back. While your resolve seemed to be wavering, his was rock solid.

You hated what Sherlock and Mycroft had done to you.

But you couldn’t find it in you to hate them.

Your resolve cracked, and with it, your anger.

A smile crept across your face.

“And I suppose punching Sherlock was going to change something?”

A soft chuckle escaped John’s lips.

“No, no it wasn’t. But it was fun.”

You laughed, the first real laugh in…

Well, in a while.

“Was he surprised? When you hit him?”

John’s laugh grew to a full out belly-laugh.

“It was the most picturesque example of cartoon shock, you should have seen-“

John froze. You weren’t laughing anymore, not really. You had a smile on your face, but it seemed frozen, almost a grimace. John knew that look, that polite, forced smile of yours. He hated it when you used it on him.

“What’s with the face? What’s wrong, are you ok?” He didn’t want you hiding anything from him.

“I-um,” you gulped, blinking rapidly. “I think I-I want to call Mycroft now.”

John felt a mixture of worry and relief. He was glad you seemed to be ready to start forgiving your brothers, but you seemed on the verge of a panic attack now.

You reached your hand out, and John left his seat to kneel next to yours, allowing you to latch onto his arm while he pulled out his cell phone.

“Alright, ok that’s great. I’m calling him now, just, can you breathe for me?”

You coughed out a shaky breath, and John smiled nervously at you as he pressed Mycroft’s number.

“Good, that’s good, again?” Just then Mycroft answered his phone.

“Where are you? Is-“

“The cafe near Baker Street, Sherlock knows it. Hurry,” John hung up on Mycroft and turned all his attention to you. “He’s on his way, with Sherlock, alright?”

You nodded, your eyes darting around the cafe as you lifted a hand up to rub your chest, your breath coming in quick gasps now.

John took both your hands in his, and spoke in a slow, even tone.

“Hey, look at me.” When your eyes met his, he smiled at continued. “This is a bit much, yeah? You haven’t been this far from Mycroft’s house in quite a while,” John was encouraged by your nod. Responding was a good sign. “Yeah, well that’s alright. I know you’re a bit overwhelmed, but there’s nothing to fear. I’m right here, I’m here for you, and Mycroft’s coming to take you home.”

“Are you John Watson?”

John turned instinctively at the sound of his name, and was alarmed to find a woman dressed suspiciously like a reporter standing over him.

“Now’s not a good time, give me some space please,” he tried to turn his attention back to you, but the reporter was insistent.

“How do you feel now that Sherlock Holmes is reported alive?”

“No comment, go away.”

Just then the reporter caught sight of you, and recognition lit up in her eyes.

Oh no.

“Y/N Holmes!”

You flinched at the sound of your name, and you tried to back away from the reporter, but your progress was stopped when the back of your chair hit the wall. John moved to stand in front of you.

“Y/N Holmes, how long have you known that your brother Sherlock is alive?”

“No no, no, stop it, leave her alone!” It was one thing to interrogate him, but John wasn’t about to let this reporter anywhere near you, especially not now.

“Did you help him fake his suicide? Was Mycroft Holmes in on it? Did Sherlock murder Jim Moriarty?” The reporter was trying to move around John now, elbowing her way closer to you.

You were hyperventilating now, one hand wrapped around your knees while the other was grasping for John’s. John instantly moved to grab your hand, but he was beaten to it.

“Back away, unless you’d like to lose your job.” Mycroft Holmes put himself between you and the reporter, grasping your small hand in his and carefully pulling you to your feet. Sherlock was right behind him, holding your shaking frame up with an arm around your shoulder and guiding you toward the door, where John could see Mycroft’s car waiting outside.

“Mr. Homes! I just have a few-“

Neither Mycroft nor Sherlock even bothered to respond, they simply ushered you outside with John right on their heels.

…

Once safe and sound in his car, Mycroft finally turned his full attention to you, quickly analyzing your condition. Quick, shallow breathing, darting eyes, shaking like a leaf. It wasn’t good.

It also could’ve been worse, though. Your hand was gripping tightly to his, and your eyes seemed to finally be focusing on him.

“Mycroft…” he was relieved to hear you speak, it was a good sign. He let you fall into his arms, and when you did he pressed his hand to the side of your head and leaned you against his chest.

“Breathe when I breathe, alright?”

You followed his example perfectly, it was an exercise you were quite used to.

Mycroft noticed Sherlock staring at him, shock and discomfort distorting his features. Mycroft understood the look. If he had seen himself like this two years ago, he wouldn’t even recognize himself.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love his siblings, it was just that showing it had never been something he had been comfortable with.

Sherlock’s “death” had forced him to almost permanently vacate his comfort zone.

He was not a touchy-feely man, and he did not believe in babying you simply because you were his sister. But when you had fallen to pieces after Sherlock left you, Mycroft had quickly realized that if he didn’t change some of his ways, you might just never be able to pull yourself back together again.

“I’m sorry,” Mycroft came back to himself when he heard your soft voice. “I shouldn’t have-have left. I wasn’t thinking.”

Mycroft shook his head, “Don’t apologize. You were upset, I understand.” He pulled you away from him and brushed your short hair away from your face, “how are you feeling?”

Your small hands gripped onto his.

“Better now.”

…

Sherlock was relieved when Mycroft’s car pulled into his driveway. The small car felt even smaller when he was stuck watching you and Mycroft. Your bond was something he didn’t understand, and he wasn’t used to not understanding Mycroft.

When the car pulled to a stop, you seemed recovered enough to walk inside, Mycroft letting you hold onto his arm the whole way. When the two of you were gone, Sherlock turned to John.

“Thank you. For watching her, that was…good.”

John gave a weak smile.

“I care about her too. You take care of her, she’s a good kid.”

“I know.”

John turned to leave, but hesitated.

“She’ll forgive you soon enough. She loves you guys.”

Sherlock allowed a smile to cross his face.

“Thank you.”

Taglist:

@navs-bhat @chaoticglitterkitten

[catsthepope]

HEY FNAF FANS I WROTE A THING

This will be included later on, but will be edited. This is an EARLY DRAFT in light of the recent lore drop.

Michael was never meant to be caught in the experiments.

But when Evan begged him to do *one* nice thing for him and stay up so he could sleep, Mike called him a baby and coward. Evan can’t ask now.

Now he’s awake, kneeling by his brothers bed, and swearing not to sleep until Evan wakes up.

Imagine when he’s greeted by those same horrors his brother had described in his nightmares.

“Evan, Evan I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you,” I choked out as I clutched his hand. “I should’ve stopped. When you told me you were having nightmares. That should’ve been the line. You woke up sobbing.”

He was still. It was silent besides the beeping of the heart monitor. *His* heartbeat. All that was left telling me he was alive.

“This is all my fault. We just wanted to scare you. I didn’t want to lose you too,” I let myself fall to the ground, with his hand against my forehead. “I love you dude. You cant die on me. You’re so strong, Evan.”

I hurt you.

The clock chimed in the hall. Midnight.

I heard the hum of the aircon.

“I’ll stay here, like you wanted me to. I’m sorry,” I don’t need sleep, or food. I need to keep him safe.

He won’t be alone.

He won’t die. (and if he does it sure as hell won’t be alone.)

I need him.

Step.

“Dad?” I wiped the tears away from my eyes quickly. I don’t know how he wants me to feel, but the mix of disgust and pride is something I can’t imagine being normal.

Step.

I grabbed the flashlight from Evan’s nightstand as I rushed to the door. It was the right one. I flicked the light on.

What the fuck was *that*?!

The decayed version of what I assume was Fredbear? I think? Scurried away before I could make it out fully. I looked back at Evan as the realization hit me.

His nightmares.

They weren’t nightmares, were they?

You don’t listen, do you?

“I should’ve believed you. But I’m here now, I’ll protect you now,” I sat down at the foot of his bed, listening for any sound in the deafening silence.

I’m the reason he’s going to die.

(Filler)

I heard the clock chime as Evan’s nightlight flicked on and the animatronics dissolved into the darkness. I waited another 30 minutes before wandering out into the hall. I needed a drink. My head was spinning, but I noticed dad’s office door open. I know I shouldn’t open it.

I’ve never been in his office.

I pushed the door open.

Shit.

Evan’s room, but not just his room. This isn’t right, it can’t be. How are there more?! I almost choked on my breath as I turned away. I can’t confront dad, was he doing this to Evan the whole time?! He wouldn’t. He cares about us! He won’t hurt us, he’s our dad. He’s all we have left, right? I should call Henry, or Jere, or someone. Anyone.

…

I can’t.

…

They saw me hurt him.

Even if he lives, he won’t be the same. You know that.

I’ve killed my brother.

…

No.

Is dad going to let my brother die?

I won’t let him die. I won’t be the reason he dies.

I need him.

He’s all I have left.

[gretavangroupie]

Bloom (Chapter 3)

Chapter 3

A/N: Barely Edited! Sorry for typos etc.

Part Two

Warnings: ALLLLL of them.

“Exhale it all as stardust and art”- Butterflies Rising

You wake the next day to Amelia banging on your door. “Wake up, time to spill the deets!” She says cheerfully. 

You are shocked because you’re positive she drank more than you did.

“Well Im up now! What do you want to know?” You reply.

“Tell me what happened when you saw him walking over to us!” She questions.

“Well after my soul left my body when I realized it was him, we took those shots and and I calmed down immediately. He has a weird calming energy and I didn’t feel nervous talking to him anymore. Gosh Amelia he was so nice and tender and he couldn’t stop touching me all night. I can’t believe we met last night. Thank god for that blowout.” You laugh.

“See, I told you blowouts have magical powers!” She said.

“Did you kiss?!!” She begs

“Yes we did have one kiss last night when he was walking us in” you tell her.

“When are you going to see him again!?” She says.

“Well, he said and I quote, “Until next time”…so whenever that is.” You say.

“Oh my gosh that is so good! You met him on Raya so who is this guy?” She questions.

“Actually I have no idea, him and his brothers are in a band but I don’t know the name. I didn’t ask or anything, did Danny say anything to you?” you ask her.

“No we didn’t even talk about him being in a band” she says smirking.

“Oh well, I feel like everyone is in a band in this town.” I say dismissively.

“Yeah you’re right about that” she says walking off to the other room.

The rest of your Sunday was uneventful, you fought the urge to text Josh, so that you didn’t come off as needy. You want him to make the next move. That doesn’t mean you don’t want to though. In fact he is all you’ve thought about all day. When the day passes with no text you chalk to it up to him being busy and leave it at that. You get ready for bed and quickly fall asleep wondering what tomorrow will bring.

You wake up in the morning and grab your phone off the night stand, you have a text from Josh. You quickly sit up and read it.

Josh: I thought about you all day. I was waiting to hear from you but I couldn’t wait anymore. So hi. I was wondering if you have plans on Wednesday? Let me know. 

Oh gosh, he was waiting on you!? That’s the last time you ever do that! You quickly check your calendar and see if you have anything important going on, on Wednesday.

You: I thought about you too. Sorry to keep you waiting! I do not have plans Wednesday. What do you have in mind?

You anxiously await his reply.

Josh: Do you think you and Amelia would want to come to one of our shows? We have one in Knoxville on Wednesday.

Knoxville, you think. Isn’t that like 3 hours away from Nashville? You’ll have to ask Amelia what she thinks but you already know she is going to say yes.

You think about it for a second, and decided to ask her really quick. You pull up her contact and send her a quick screen shot of you and Josh’s conversation with a question mark.

She replies quickly, 

Amelia: Aww Pen he likes you! Yes, we should totally go. Why not! I’ll drive. 

You formulate your response to Josh.

You: Okay, I talked to Amelia, she is totally down to come watch your show! Looks like we will be there!

Josh: Danny is going to be thrilled. Me too of course. ;) I’ll text you the address and how to get back stage when I have the info. Can’t wait to see you again pretty girl.

There it is again, that nick name quickly becoming your favorite.

You: I am looking forward to it. :)

You and Josh continue to have small sporadic conversations over the next day or so, just anxiously awaiting Wednesday. 

The day finally arrives, and around 9:00AM you get a text from Josh with the address and where to go to get in. 

You and Amelia decide to leave around 2:00 so that you have plenty of time before the show starts to see the guys. Josh had told you that the show started at 6:00PM, so an hour would be enough right? 

After the 3 hour car ride to Knoxville, you arrive and park in the parking garage across from what you now see is an Arena with a huge line of people waiting.

“Wow” you say to Amelia, “they must be opening for someone big!”

She nods agreeably and you get out and walk over to the will call window and wait for your turn. 

You tell her what Josh had told you to say, “Hi, we are here to pick up our access passes.” You give her your last names and ID’s and she pulls out 2 lanyards and slides them through the hole in the window. 

“Here you are, have a good night” she smiles.

You and Amelia look at each other so confused, when you look at the Badges hanging from the lanyards. 

It has an illustration of a hooded man surrounded by stars and underneath,  Access All Areas - VIP Guest.

You and Amelia look at each other shocked. “Wow look at us, all important” she squeaks.

You head to the doors where a guard is and ask how where you need to go. He pulls out his radio and says something incoherent and shortly another man appears and leads you backstage.

After a long walk down multiple hallways he knocks on a door and says “one of them will probably answer… maybe” he shakes his head laughing and walks away. 

You stand there nervously waiting for the door to open and you see Sam.

“Oh my gosh I didn’t know you two were coming! Long time no see, come on in! We are just doing out pre show festivities.” He says excitedly.

You walk in a scan the room and you see Josh, in a White Velvet bedazzled jumpsuit, and a lady is applying what looks like Rhinestones on his face. Next you see Danny, talking to who you can reasonably assume is Josh’s twin brother Jake. You can’t hear what they are saying but you see Jake ask Danny a question and Danny shake his head and say yes. 

You feel your cheeks blush a little bit and you turn to look at Amelia who is already running over to hug Danny. You are standing there by your self feeling a little but awkward when Sam says, “Come on let’s go make some drinks.”

A drink is so what you need right now. He pours you up a Vodka Soda and you take a few big sips just to calm your nerves. You look around again and think to your self that this is a pretty nice dressing room for an opener.

The lady finished up on Josh’s rhinestones and he catches sight of you and begins to make his way over to you.

“I am so glad you guys made it, it’s going to be a great show!” He says cheerfully.

“I totally wasn’t expecting an arena! Who are you guys opening for?” You question.

Sam about chokes on his drink and says “Honey, we aren’t the opener, we are the headliner.”

At that moment all the thoughts drain from your head and you are staring blankly at Josh who is searching your face nervously for some kind of reaction. 

“What? What is the name of your band? Have I heard your music?” You ask looking between the two of them.

“Greta Van Fleet is the name of our band” Josh says nervously rubbing his hands together.

The wheels begin to turn in your mind and you recognize that name from one of your Spotify playlists. You can’t quite place a song at the moment but you realize that this isn’t just some gig for a small band trying to make it. This is their tour, and they have already made it. 

Things quickly start to fall into place when you think about some of the things he has told you or said over the last couple of days. 

“Wow, I had no idea, why didn’t you tell me?” You ask him.

“Well I didn’t want you to have any preconceived notions about me, I didn’t want to ruin something that was happening so organically.” He says with a soft smile. He grabbed your hand and said “I wanted one thing in my life to be as normal and ordinary as possible, but I am quickly finding this to be more than ordinary.” he says staring into your eyes with a soft smile.

Sam excuses himself from your conversation and as you stand there in the moment you hear Jake yell out, “Alright time for a shot!” You look at Josh and say “funny, isn’t this exactly what happened last time I saw you?” He laughs and agrees.

You all hang out in the dressing room, you and Amelia watch the boys warm up and little and goof around and you’re both talking about how excited you are to see them play.

About a half hour later someone knocks on the door and gives them a ten minute warning. At this point they have all changed into very intricately designed suits with embellishments and adornments carefully placed for the most effect. A few of them have put on a touch of make up and they all look stunning. 

You all begin the walk down the hall to get to the backside of the stage. You can faintly hear music playing from inside the arena. Josh’s assistant leads you and Amelia to the the left side of the stage and points and shows you how to get into the seating area so you can watch the show, and what to do after it was over, although she did tell us we were free to come and go from backstage as much as we pleased. 

You hear music begin to get louder and the crowd beginning to cheer thunderously as the lights go down. It is pitch black back stage and all you can see is red lighting from the stage and smoke from a smoke machine. Amelia runs over to Danny and you see them hug out of the corner of your eye. 

Josh runs over to you and says “Alright, it’s time. I’ll see you on the other side. This one’s for you.” 

He smiles excitedly and pulls you in for a quick and unsuspecting kiss. Again his lips on yours lights a fire inside of you that you never want to go out. Just as soon as you open your eyes you see him slide off his shoes next to the stairs and run up onto the stage. Jake is collecting his guitar from the side of the stage and a quickly follows after Josh giving you a small head nod. 

You and Amelia rush up to your seats and get there just in the nick of time. Suddenly you realize there has to be 30,000 people in this arena, and they are all there for these guys you met at a bar.

Amelia turns to you and says “I cannot believe this is our life right now!”

You look at her and shake your head, “honestly, me either!”

Suddenly you hear what you are assuming is Josh’s voice and the guitar building up when out of nowhere the curtain drops and the crowd goes absolutely insane. Josh and the guys look incredible. They begin to play and as you look to the crowd you see most everyone singing every single word to the song and recording on their phones. You see people dressed to the nines, in outfits that look like the ones the guys are wearing. You can tell they are true fans. 

Josh sounds amazing, and it’s very apparent that Jake, who is on guitar, has his very own fan club. You can hear the people below you screaming his name and him doing the absolute most theatrical performance he can, for them. Sam is on bass, and Danny is on the drums and you see a few signs confessing their love for them as well. 

About midway through the show you see Josh come down off of the stage and he begins to pass out white roses to people in the crowd, who are absolutely awe struck by him. The whole time he is grinning ear to ear and you can just tell that this is his passion and he loves making people happy. He shakes hands with a few girls after the roses are gone and then he is suddenly back on stage for the next song.

Amelia nudges you and tells you that she has to pee, so you both make your way backstage and head to the bathroom. She tells you she wants to watch the last bit of the show from the side of the stage and you agree. You have such a great view from here and you happily watch Josh as he occasionally catches a glance of you from the stage. 

They finish the song and they all begin to exit quickly down the stairs. They are all sweating profusely and drinking down bottles of water. 

Sam sprints past you, and heads straight for the bathroom. Josh walks over to you, out of breath, and says “So, what do you think so far?”

Your eyes widen and you say urgently, “Oh my god Josh are you kidding? You guys are amazing! I don’t know what I was expecting but you have definitely exceed it!”

“Well in about two minutes we are going to get back up there for a few more songs, and then I’m all yours for the rest of the night.” He gives you a quick kiss on the forehead and finishes the rest of his water as the guys begin to run back up the stairs to take their places on the stage. Josh runs up and the crowd goes nuts. The lights come back on as Josh says “Well, what do you think? One more?”

The really put on a hell of a show. They ended with a bang, literally. Fire, fireworks, the whole nine yards.

They all come down off the stage looking utterly beat. Josh motions for you and Amelia to follow them back to the dressing room. Once inside they all sit down and try to catch their breath. Their crew handing out waters and cigarettes to Sam. There are noticeably more people  in the room than last time you were in here. Assistants, roadies and crew members all discussing what needed to happen in a few minutes. You and Amelia talk amongst yourself until Josh gets up and walks over to you and asks if you have to leave tonight or if you could stay.

Taken aback by the question you tell him that you and Amelia were planning to drive back tonight. He looks at me with a smirk and motions to Danny and Amelia  who are on the couch getting very cozy. “I think that Danny and Amelia may have other plans for the evening…”

“So it would seem. Let me talk to her. I need to figure out what to do.” You say trying to think about possible situations.

“Well, I know it is kind of soon, but you are more than welcome to stay with me at my hotel tonight and drive back tomorrow morning.” He says sheepishly.

“I’m not sure how much fun I will be, since I am exhausted, but I will try to be a good host.” He jokes with you.

You think about possible scenarios in your mind. You think about how when you moved to Nashville you wanted to try to be more carefree and open to new experiences, and you make your decision. “Okay. I’ll tell Amelia.” You say confidently.

“Really? Great!” Josh says excitedly. 

After a round of drinks while everyone changes and gets cleaned up, you pull Amelia to the side to tell her that you have decided to stay with Josh tonight. “Oh really? Thank god, Danny and I were trying to come up with a plan. I’ve already decided to call in sick tomorrow.” She says.

“Okay well this works out, I guess just, text me in the morning and we can hit the road.” you say. “Oh and hey Mill? Thanks for making me get that stupid app. I can’t believe this has worked out like this.” You say thankfully.

“Oh no problem, i’m not complaining either!” She says pointing to Danny, who is laughing at something Sam is acting out.

You hug her and go to find Josh.

“Hey pretty girl, I think that our van is going to leave here in about 5 minutes to take us to the hotel.”

You nod and smile at him and he links his arm with yours and slings a back pack over his other arm. You begin to walk out a side door to get to the van, and you are met with about 50 screaming fans wanting pictures and autographs from the guys. Josh tells you to get in the van and he will meet you in a second with a squeeze of your hand. 

You and Amelia get in the back of the van and you watch as the guys take photos, sign autographs and joke with their fans. After a few minutes they all begin to pile in. You say to them, “wow they really love you guys!”. Danny chimes in, “we wouldn’t be here right now with out them!” The van pulls out and we head to the hotel which is very close by. Their assistant is already waiting with room keys for the guys. We all pile into the elevator and Josh pushes the button to take everyone to their floors. When the doors open at your floor you and Josh are the first ones out and you can hear Sam making kissy noises and saying “have a good night you two…” You blush and turn your head so that Josh can’t see. He grabs your hand and says “Sorry about that, he is 23 but sometimes I think he never matured past 14.” You laugh and shrug your shoulders as Josh unlocks the door with the room key. 

Its a very nice hotel room with a large king sized bed, you immediately take your boots off as josh drops his back pack and duffle bag on the chair. He walks over and sits down on the bed and pats the spot next to him. You nervously walk over and sit down. He puts his hand gently on you arm and says

“Listen, I don’t want you to feel weird or awkward. There are no expectations and I am genuinely just happy that you are here. I don’t want you to think there is any pressure for anything to happen here. I just want you to know that.” He says reassuringly.

You aren’t sure what has come over you but you put your hand on his face and look into his eyes and say “Thank you.” You lean in and kiss him and you feel his hand lace its self through your arms and rest on your hip. He begins to kiss you back, your mouths both parting enough that he takes your bottom lip between his and sucks every so slightly. A grumble comes from his throat as he tightens his grip on your side. 

You feel his tongue cross the threshold into your mouth and you taste the slight flavor of whiskey, part of his pre show ritual. Your tongues begin to dance melodically together fervently as he suddenly pulls away. 

“Im sorry I don’t know what came over me. Right after I just said there was no pressure…” he continues until you cut him off. “I want this. If you do of course…” you say sheepishly, eyes searching his. 

“I do, but when it’s right, and right now all I want is to lay in this bed and hold you and tell you how beautiful you look right now.” He says smiling at you.

You are taken aback by the blatant admission but you love how open he is with you.

“That sounds wonderful.” You say.

He jumps up and walks over to his duffle bag, crouching down and unzipping it, digging through it to find a t shirt. “Ah ha!” He says, and throws the t-shirt at you. “You can sleep in this if you want to.” He says hopefully.

“I will, thanks” you smirk.

He grabs some things from his bag and heads into the bathroom. While he is in there you quickly strip down to your underwear and throw on the t shirt, which smells exactly like Josh, and you slide into the plush and comfy bed. A few minutes later Josh emerges from the bathroom with s pair of sweatshirts and no shirt. He walks over and turns off the lamp on the other side of the room and closes the curtains. He plugs his phone into the charger and leaves it on the desk next to yours. 

He walks over the bed and pulls the duvet back and slides in next to you like it is something he has always done.  Everything that he does seems so natural and easy to him, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

He rolls onto his side and turns to face you and smiles when he sees you in his shirt. “It looks better on you than it does on me!” He laughs.

You laugh and push his arm a little. “Thank you for coming out here tonight to see the show. It really was special for me, knowing that you were there and waiting to see me when I came off the stage.” He says.

“Of course, I just wish you would have told me about the band and just how large of an event it was going to be” you laugh.

“I know, I should have but I was enjoying you too much to spoil it.” He says

“Spoil it?” You ask, “what do you mean”

“Well, as I’m sure you saw, we have quite a few fans and sometimes I worry that people only want to talk to me because of that. Which is why I didn’t bring it up, to see how things would play out naturally.” He says. 

“Well, I was a bit shocked to be honest, and I think I have a lot of homework to do, to learn your entire discography.” You say “Because I’ll be damned if I go to another show and I can’t at least sing along” you joke.

He reaches over and rubs his hand over your cheek. He looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t. After a minute of just looking at each other he says “Are you tired?”

You nod and he rolls over to turn off the light. You roll onto your other side, facing away from him.  He adjusts his pillow under his head and lets out a long deep breath before rolling back to his side. 

The next thing you know you feel him inching his body closer to you until you feel your back pressed against his chest. His hand reaches over and pushes the hair away from your neck and he nuzzles his face into your neck when you hear him take a long inhale before he says “goodnight perfect girl” and places a soft kiss on the soft spot behind your ear. You blush again and say “goodnight josh, thanks for tonight.” His arm snakes under yours and rests gently on your waist. You soon recognize that he is asleep based on the even pattern of breathing you feel against your neck. Your heart is still racing and you wonder if you’ll even be able to sleep tonight. 

You can see sunlight peaking around the edges of the curtains as you try to open your eyes. You realize you did manage to fall asleep and you slept soundly. You don’t remember waking up in the middle of the night as you usually do. It takes a minute for you to realize that you are still in the same position that you fell asleep in with one noticeable change. You can feel Josh’s erection buried into your back. He is completely entangled around you and closer than ever. 

After a few minutes you decide to get up as carefully and quietly as possible and make your way over to your phone to check the time. 6:10AM. You sneak off to the bathroom to pee, and then make your way back into bed hoping to get a few more blissful minutes of cuddling. 

You are able to slide right back into the bed except this time you're facing him. You see his eye lids flutter and slowly open when you see that beautiful smile you love creep across his face. 

“Somehow you’re even more beautiful right now than in my dream.” he says reaching for your face. You giggle and push him over. He grabs your arm and pulls you over on top of him. You are face to face, nose to nose. His lips furiously find yours as he entwines both of his hands in your hair. You kiss him back deeper until your tongues are dancing together. His hands are underneath the hem of your shirt and they make their way to your back rubbing up and down your skin, lighting small fires upon every square inch they touch.

You feel his erection against your stomach growing impossibly harder. You make a move to flip over so that he is now on top of you. You continue to kiss each other fervently like there is nothing else in the world. Resting on his hands he crawls closer to you and runs his left hand from the top of your shoulder down to your knee, memorizing the shape of your body. He lays back down on top of you and you feel his length pressed directly to your core. It has been so long since you had felt anything down there and it was so sensitive you were sure that one touch would cause you to come undone.

“Josh” you say breaking the kiss, “please” you plead. You feel for the elastic of his boxers and gently tug.

He looks at you with a serious contemplative expression,“Are you sure?” He asks.

“Yes” you plead. You aren’t sure what has come over you but all you can think about is closing the distance between your bodies. In this moment you need him more than you need air.

He jumps up and digs around in his toiletry bag and returns to you. He quickly slides his boxers off, his dick springing free from the confines of his boxers. Nervously looking to you, he quickly climbs back into the same position, but sitting back on his feet, he opens the condom, discarding the packing on the floor and rolls it on in one fluid motion. 

You pull him close to you and feel his lips trailing soft kisses down the side of your neck. He grabs the hem of the t-shirt and gently lifts it over your head, throwing it to the floor.  He looks down at your body and breathlessly says, “you are magnificent”. You blush and turn your head and he smiles, noticing the blush creeping down your chest. “I will never get tired of that”.

You take his lips in yours as you feel his fingers hook through your underwear and he begins to slide them down your legs. 

Once they are on the floor with the rest of your clothes you feel his fingers slide gently through the warm slit between your legs, “Oh my god baby you are so wet.” He says. He continues to run his fingers up and down in fluid motions before circling your clit repeatedly. You are squirming with anticipation as you feel your climax creeping forward. 

“Josh wait!” You beg. He slows down, looking at you. “I want the first time to be together.” You say.  A small smile creeps across his face and he removes his fingers from you, and begins to position himself at your welcome entrance. 

You begin to breathe heavily, he notices and rubs his hand up and down your arm reassuringly. 

A few second later you feel him slide gently inside of you. 

Josh throws his head back and groans in pure ecstasy at the contact, making sure to hold still for a few seconds to let you adjust. You can feel every single inch stretching inside of you to accommodate his size. When you feel like you are acclimated you motion to him that he can go ahead.

He drops his head to your chest and  takes one of your nipples into his mouth. His hands on either side of your head, he pulls slightly out and pushes back in. He does this slowly while focusing on your face for a few minutes before you call out, “more josh, please”.

You see a sparkle in his eye as he begins to pump in and out of your more fervently. Your lips crash to his, tongues exploring every inch of each others mouths. You’re panting as he works your body in ways you weren’t sure it could be worked. 

He hitches your left leg up onto his side and he continues to work up to his climax. You are there, you are gently pressing your fingertips into the soft parts of his back, clinging to him and ready to be overtaken. “I am close Josh, I am gonna cum.” You pant.

“Cum, cum for me right now pretty girl, I am there, I am with you.” He breathes.

One more thrust and your walls tighten around his cock and you’re overwhelmed with your release. The only sound you hear is Josh succumbing to his own, with a loud guttural groan and you feel him filling the condom with his warm secretion.

He collapses on top of you breathing heavily. He kisses your forehead lingering for a few seconds before pulling away. He rolls off of you and gets up and walks to the bathroom. You hear the toilet flush and he returns with a warm washcloth.

He reaches out and presents it to you, “for the lady”. You laugh and graciously accept, and use it to clean your self up before you make your way to the bathroom. 

When you return he is gathering his toiletries to get in the shower. “Care to partake?” He asks.

“You check your phone looking to see if Amelia had texted you yet, and when you realize she hadn’t you are happy to oblige. “Sure” you agree.

Josh had already started the shower, it was hot. Hot enough that steam was filling the bathroom already. You step in to the shower with him and he motions for you to go first. You wet your hair and rub the leftover makeup off your face before turning to him and letting him past. He steps under the steamy water and wets his curls first, water flowing down his body and you catch your self staring at his dick.

“See something you like angel?” 

You look up, embarrassed and turn around to begin to wash your hair with the hotel provided mini bottles. He does the same, rinses himself and steps to the side to let you rinse. You’re face to face again and he is smiling at you. He reaches out and offers you his body wash. This is it, this is his intoxicating smell and you happily wash yourself all over with it, so that you can smell him all day.

Suddenly he grabs you and pulls you in for a long deep kiss. You kiss him back and he releases you. You both rinse off and he turns off the shower, he reaches out and hands you a fluffy white towel. 

Once you’re both out of the shower, he begins dressing and you look around for your clothes. You slide back into your underwear, pull your jeans on and put your bra on when you hear him say, “take that shirt, wear it today if you want. I’ll get it back from you eventually.” You smile and thank him and he puts on a brown linen short sleeve jumpsuit and Birkenstocks. 

Your phone dings and its Amelia, letting you know that she is waiting for you in the lobby.

“Amelia is waiting for me down stairs.” You say.

“Yeah my assistant has been blowing up my phone for the past half hour, they are waiting for me too.” He laughs.

He grabs his backpack and closes the distance between the two of you and pulls you into to a hug. He buries his face into your neck, breathing you in again. “Hey! You smell like me!” He jokes. He looks up and places his soft lips to yours for one last gentle kiss before pulling back to stare at you for a minute longer. You wonder what he is thinking.

“Alright, let’s not keep them waiting.” He grabs the rest of his things and makes his way to the door. 

The elevator ride is made in silence and once you arrive to the lobby you immediately spot Amelia. She runs over to you and throws her hands around your neck pulling you in for a hug. “Hi. Goodmorning Pen!!”

“Pen?” Josh asks.

You look at him, and laugh. “It’s a long story, I’ll tell you about it sometime.” You joke.

“You ready to go Mills?” You ask 

“Yep, let me go say bye to Danny real quick” and she saunters off.

“Hey thank you for everything…” Josh says to you.

You smile up at him and thank him for the invite and his hospitality. He gives you his signature goodbye kiss on the forehead and says “until next time”. 

You smile as he walks off and meets up with Danny and they disappear out the doors.

Amelia calls an Uber to take you back to her car in the parking garage, then she looks around to see if the coast is clear and says “Alright, spill!”

You roll your eyes and are sure to give her the full rundown on the way home.

[ridiculouslly-ridiculous]

Currently thinking about having an arranged marriage with Leon 😮‍💨

Leon Dompteur x Princess!Reader

Just imagine you were a princess of one of the boarding nations around Rhodolite, and in order to establish peace (or some other reason) you have an arranged marriage to Leon.

You’re very much the beauty of Jade/Benitoite/Obsidian and very much fawned over. You, my love, are a goddess among royalty.

I can see Leon having a very civilized approach to your marriage. He’ll be nice, give you a respectable amount of distance, and make conversation over tea. Leon would definitely not ignore you. He would always try his best to have his meals with you.

As time goes on, you definitely become closer and actually become good friends, and no longer have that awkward tension between the two of you. The two of you actually start to fall in love with one another, but are scared to act on those feelings.

He becomes worried when the pressure from the court comes about producing heirs. He is definitely nervous about bringing the subject up to you, this man fought in blood stained rose day but is scared to bring up the subject of a child up to his wife! He fights them off for as long as he can.

But it’s one day that your average group of assassins come into the Rhodolite palace. You were minding your own business in the palace, when you come face to face with one of them.

Thankfully your older brother gave you same self defense tips before you left home. You manage to take down your assailant and you come of of it with just a few scratches. When you’re getting inspected by the palace physician, your husband busts into the room, nearly taking the door off its hinges.

Caught up in his emotions, he can’t help but to cup your face and kiss you. Sure, the two of you shared a kiss on your wedding day, and kiss every so often to play the parts of husband and wife, but this one was different. This one was out of love, not necessity.

Soon the physician finishes up examining you, leaving you and your husband alone to discuss your feelings and how to move forward.

Nothing really changes in your daily routine, the only difference is that your love is no longer just for show, it was the real deal.

It doesn’t take too much longer for the Royal court to stop harassing your husband about producing heirs 👀

Sorry if this doesn’t make sense. It’s like 5 am when I’m posting. But this Leon arranged marriage brain rot was too stronk. I will maybe come back to improve/edit once I’m not running off of fumes!

[lewmagoo]

Ain’t no love In Oklahoma was fantastic!!

The excitement all 5 of them had before tragedy hit made what happened next all the more devastating 😭

“Rhett!” You sobbed, burying your face against his chest as he cautiously guided you away from the overhead doors. 

“I’ve got you!” He assured you, holding you tightly. He pulled you both to the damp ground, and you curled up beneath him as he laid his body atop your own. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

rhett being terrified but comforting the reader at the same time just warmed my heart

Rhett having to hold the reader back from going to see Lydia was absolutely gut wrenching 😭🤧

‘Rhett was on the verge of potentially losing his brother. And while his relationship with Perry had been tumultuous over the years, he cared about him deeply, and couldn’t stomach the thought of losing him.’ That part was so painful to read especially because rhett is such a family oriented guy😭

‘His bottom lip quivered slightly, and he shook his head. “No, I…I should apologize. I shoulda been more understandin’. You were grievin’, same as me, and I wasn’t letting you do it in your own way. I made you feel like you had to run away, and I’m sorry.”

“Is that what you think? That it was your fault?” Your voice trembled.

He shrugged, sniffling softly. “S’what I always assumed. Thought it had to be somethin’ I did.”

‘The thought of him living with that these last several years made your heart ache. “It was never your fault. It was me. I couldn’t face what happened. I thought…if I left, it would be easier. I could move on faster.”

This part ripped my fucking heart out 😭

I swear I cried while reading the majority of part 1 (and I love it!) Rhett saying he doesn’t blame her for leaving and then them hugging helped to keep me from crying even more though

‘You glanced over at him. He was leaning back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs. 

Until his mother slapped her dish towel against his arm. “Stop leanin’ back in that chair. The legs’ll give out.” 

He corrected his chair right away.’

lmao I can so see Cecelia scolding rhett for doing that!! It made me giggle! 😂😂😂

When you were teenagers, Cecilia was insistent that you did not share a bed if you stayed the night. You’d sleep on the pull-out bed in the living room, far away from Rhett’s bedroom upstairs. It didn’t stop him from sneaking down to talk to you in the middle of the night, though. 

The fact that Rhett used to sneak down to talk to the reader at night is the cutest thing ever!!

Rhett having a life threatening bull riding experience and now he’s afraid to ride bulls and the reader is afraid to chase twisters. It’s angst galore!!

“I’m Zara Marshall. Nice to finally meet you! Rhett told me all about you.” Then she added, “good things, of course!”

Rhett talking about the reader to his friends is adorable!! 🥹🥰

Rhett explaining the process of how they get the nitrogen tanks in the path of the twister was so sexy and for what!!!

When Zara mentions saving lives and rhett can tell what the reader is thinking just by looking at her even after all these years 😭

“I can handle it, darlin’.”

The noise I let out is embarrassing 😳

I love how the reader is the only one able to get him back on a bull (but I’m worried it might end up being a mistake 🥲)

Rhett’s mouth curled into a slight smile. “There she is.”

“What?”

“My storm chasin’ gal. You’re back.”

This part was so so adorable!! 🥰

I’m excited but also nervous to see what happens in the next part!! I get the feeling it’s gonna break my heart again! I can’t wait!! Thank you for tagging me!! 🩷🩷🩷

edit: i thought i posted this already but it went to my drafts 😭

thank you my darling! i'm so glad you enjoyed it. i was reading through this ask this morning and smiling at all your little highlights. thanks for taking the time to send this! i love reading about which parts resonated with different people. a lot of the parts you highlighted here are some of my favorite moments in the story 🤗

[candyredmusings]

“Another One Of Those ‘Things My Discord Said’ Sentence Starters.

Things taken from DMs and a few group chats from Discord. CW: NSFT Change / Edit as necessary !

i am literally tom cruise

cum is cool.

[NAME]  is fucked up cus he is straight man

[NAME]  show me your fuckin tits

[NAME], you better not be standing catatonic in your room wearing your handmade jigsaw robe again.

its like they creampied me but instead of cum it was new music

like what about my pussy-area makes u think sea cucumber

the mind is weak. but the body is funky

so im reading that fanfic where 1d like, buys your soul or whatever and im shook

well tom servo is a sex god

and then i freaked it

FUCK YOU APPLE JACK FUCK

ILL SLURP WITH YOU

LEMME SHOW U DICK

ITS A SIDE QUEST YOU SILLY BITCH

I’m a zombie the law can’t stop me

LEAVE YOUR GOLDEN UNCRUSTABLES OUT OF MY HOME I WILL NOT FALL VICTIM TO THY TRICKERY

you, telling me to ignore a twink with side swept brown hair? foolish.

Hes so hot i briefly started texting like a straight person

and because I’m god and I’ve decided that. No. In fact. I’m not done.

MY DUMB BOTTOM BRAIN FOLLOWS COMMANDS TOO WELL

[NAME], I know you love bloopy reggae jams. Now is not the time

OH THATS WHAT I THOUGHT YOUD SAY YOU STUPID ACCIDENTAL HIMBO DEMON

man i rlly am attracted to paul mccartney.

its not that kennedy was gay af sleeping w jackies fat ass out, he just has a better one-

jealous of my massive honkeers

YOU BRAINCELLED BITCH

this forced open my third eye and i saw the devil--

oh me seeming romantically interested in u is making u uncomfortable?? noted

the only pussy this party city shake out wig looking mother fucker is getting

[NAME]  expose your teeth right fucking now

IN THE DEPARTMENT OF OLD MAN FUCKING, WEVE GOT YOU BEAT

What if we kissed while one of us got called racist and we are both boys

i just jacked it to minecraft piss porn

I will pop a huge tentacle boner

i hate females fr fr

we left u to die to play minecraft

IM GONNA FRICKLE-FRACK YOUR WIFE

CAN I KARATE CHOP IT LIKE IN SPONGEBOB

DWIGHT FROM THE OFFICE IS NOT MY SKRUNKLY

she would never ever take away one of these stupid fucking hats

My brother in Christ you’re being haunted

i want to wring you like a wet towel and slap u against a wall

Yeah you'll come to learn I just have a thing for milk

Piss ur pants harder pls I wanna watch

I'm gonna corn on the kill myself

good morning to parappa and his stans. everyone else..... hi ig

lol look at this clown with no slurs

God has abandoned his children but unfortunately for you I pay child support and I will smite thee.

this is how I reveal myself to be homophobic

I have no sluts

idk what it is abt it but boba makes me become like an actual whore

im homophobic suddenly

he was like ‘You're so big”.... and i just started crying

anyones penis can be hard hes not special

for the love of god please help me

i can talk about piss for hours

im sorry i havent recognized mickey mouse clubhouse ost as the cultural landmark that it is

I ASKED IF WE WOULD RP AFTER FUCKING BIBLE STUDY OR WHATEVER

the benefits of being a yandere is that i dont have to forgive OR forget and I am a living breathing PVP zone so Fuck with me white boy.

When toxic by ashnikko comes on I enter the gaslight gatekeep phases of my girlbosshood

im like a child in line for the newest fucked up disney ride

[NAME] is just all fucking Sorts of fucked up

im clownfaking

why are we here? to suffer? every other day i get messages from a whore

always thinking abt when my friend called me a "white boy whore"

you gotta PUMP the errand girl with cocaine

im beyond shame bc i love all cock try again

people have fetishes.

They really do crucify anyone these days huh

u may have never hungered for cock but you have hungered for a sub sandwich and honestly? theyre basically the same thing-

hi im drawing hentai

[NAME] idk why but that really. makes me want to stab you

“Don't have sex FOMO, [NAME], no! “

“TRY AND NUKE THIS, BITCH.”

“There's a group of golden skeletons behind you hitting the griddy “

“GRANDPA’S ASHES SUCKED MY COCK AND TOOK ME TO ARBYS.”

“You’re lanky with no gender and silly goofy with the rizz it works.”

“You can’t just tell me I could be a Tumblr sexy man to my face at 4:30 PM.”

"I have strong opinions about the soviet union"

“CALL THAT PUSSY THE MATRIX CAUSE IM IN THIS BITCH AND I CANT GET OUT “

“dont cry. 8000 types of reptiles on the planet, okay?”

[NAME] lives his life like he’s an RPG character but picks only the rude dialogue options.”

“I need to beat off to this before God destroys California.”

"No amount of pussy could get me on a rollercoaster with three loops"

"I love your senior citizen pussy"

"Gerber is pretty reliable .. I mean .. The Gerber baby didn't die .... did it?"

“you are white i assume”

"I hate you terrorist, and you may quote me on that"

"I love watching you play minecraft. It's like watching a baby fawn."

"I've never seen old men who fuck harder."

"i don't need him to KILL i need him to FUCK ME"

"well maybe if you just dicked down your wife she wouldn't have gone on a murderous slut rampage"

"why cant these BIG titty bimbos stop HANGING around me"